Everything I'm Not
by Laureen
Summary: SLASH Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him Harry’s. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for TheBoyWhoLived, and when things go too far he steps in to save the boy he
1. Summer Begins in Blood

_Rating: M for graphic violence._

_Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy._

_Warnings: Slash m/m, Harry/Draco. Abuse, graphic violence. Non-consensual rape. Incest. Very dark stuff here. If you don't like the above, or cannot stomach them please do not read. This is, simply, your last warning. All flames and hate-mail/reviews will be promptly ignored. Thankyouverymuch._

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world._

**Chapter One: Summer Begins in Blood**

He had failed. That was the most important thing going through Draco Malfoy's head. Well, second to the shock of seeing the headmaster's death. He had failed, and the Dark Lord was going to kill him. Time passed through in a haze, the next thing he knew he was being dragged along behind Professor Snape outside of the school wards where they apparated away to Spinners End. His stomach clenched at the pull from the apparition and he dropped to his knees, dry-heaving, one hand clutching desperately at his professors robes. He was going to die.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you would be so kind as to release my robes this instant," Snape's cold voice cut through the fog surrounding Draco's mind and he nodded slightly, letting go instantly. He didn't see the look on Snape's face as he looked down upon him; a touch of concern, mingled with sorrow, with a pinch of exasperation. "Good. Now stand up and follow me." The professor walked away swiftly, disabling the wards surrounding his home as he did so. The moment they were inside the door was slammed shut, causing the blond Slytherin to jump slightly, slowly lifting grey eyes to look at the professor.

"Now, the way I see it, you have two choices. You can turn yourself in to the Dark Lord, although you and I are both fully aware of what he will do for your… transgression. Or you can try to run. I imagine this would be a viable choice for you boy, though there are hardly many places no one would choose to look for you. Either way your life will be forfeit."

While the professor has been speaking, Draco had been assessing his options. He knew that no matter what he chose to do, the Dark Lord would see his death for this. If he went back however, he may be able to save his family - or maybe not. One could never be too certain with him. At the mention of running, however, Draco's head lifted and he caught his professor looking at him with something that could almost pass for sympathy. _Was Professor Snape really going to let him run?_ He nodded slowly, almost lost in thought. If he ran he would need to find someplace safe, someplace no one would ever think to look for him.

Draco stood, arms crossed in front of his chest, wand held loosely in his hand. "Of course, Severus, you are correct. I am entirely at fault," his lips lifted in a sneer, reminiscent of his fathers. "However, since the old coot is dead I think I'll simply be on my way. I'm sure you'd be so kind as to give me a head start before letting the Dark Lord know what has… transpired?"

Professor Severus Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked at his favourite student. "Draco, get some sleep before you go running off. After this evening you'll need the rest. No one but you and I saw what happened in that corridor, so you should at least have the night. As for the morning, well, if you're gone before I awake then I can honestly inform the Dark Lord that you were gone without my knowledge."

Smirking, Draco spun on his heel and headed towards the guest room he usually stayed in when he visited here. "Everything is still in its usual places, yes?" He called back over his shoulder, not expecting a response from the potions master.

Draco looked around the room and pulled a bag out of the wardrobe, stuffing things in haphazardly; thankful it was enlarged within, much like a wizard's tent, so there was lots of room to store everything he would need. Potions which could come in handy where carefully placed into the side-pockets, changes of clothing, and galleons in the main portion. Last, but certainly not least he added enough food to keep him going for weeks, reciting the preserving charm to make certain the food would keep.

Then Draco settled onto the bed and began to plan. He needed a place no one would think to find him. It couldn't be anything belonging to the Malfoy's as that would be the first place both sides would check for him. It wouldn't do to be caught there, after this he was sure he'd be disowned anyways. He briefly entertained the notion of going to Pansy's but knew that would be almost as foolish as going to his own property. And it was the same with Crabbe and Goyle's. It seemed he was entirely on his own for this, and could not expect any help from his 'friends'.

So, if he couldn't count on his friends, then where else? Sighing, he wracked his brain, trying to think of someplace he would never expect himself to go. A bark of laughter escaped him as he thought. He knew just the place.

* * *

Harry Potter sighed softly, leaning his head against the window of the Hogwarts Express, one hand fisting in his pocket to hold tightly to the locket in his pocket. The chill from the window was soothing, and he let his eyes drift closed slowly. He knew Ron and Hermione would be back soon to worry over him some more, but he needed a moment to compose himself. They wanted to come back to the Dursley's with him; however he knew that wouldn't be a good idea. He didn't want them to see, to _know_. He wouldn't be able to bear the looks on their face, if they even still wanted to be around him after they knew. 

The sound of the door sliding open startled Harry slightly, and he lifted his head to see the reflection of his two best friends in the window. A weak smile curved his lips and he turned. "Hi guys."

"Oh, Harry, are you feeling okay?" Hermione bustled over and pressed her hand on Harry's forehead, frowning slightly as Harry ducked out of her reach and leaned back into his seat. Ever since the Headmasters death Harry had withdrawn into himself. His friends could see that he was trying not to worry them, but the more he pretended the easier it was to see that something was horribly wrong with the boy they had known for so long.

"Yeah, 'Mione, I'm fine. Actually I wanted to talk to the two of you about this summer." Harry paused, waiting for the two to settle into their seats before he continued on, not noticing the looks of worry that were exchanged between the two. "Look, I know you guys want to come to the Dursley's with me, but, well, I think it would be best if I did this on my own. I'll be perfectly safe there." He almost laughed at this, _if you can call dealing with my fat uncle Vernon's abuse safe_. "I'll only be staying until my birthday and then I can meet you guys at The Burrow. If your family will have me, that is Ron."

"Blimey, mate, of course we'll have you! You're a honourary Weasely anyways, and I know Mum would love to see you. But are you sure about going back to your family by yourself?" Ron frowned. After second years rescue he'd had a feeling that his family wasn't of the good sort, but Harry had never told them much other than that he hadn't had much to eat due to a diet of his cousins. Hermione and he had stayed up late worrying about Harry, but unless Harry would tell them something more they both knew there wasn't much to be done.

"'Course I'm sure, Ron. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to the Dursley's to just show up with a couple of guests without letting them know in advance anyways." Harry smiled, emerald eyes shimmering with emotion. He knew that if he even attempted to have them come home with him that uncle Vernon would flip, and then he would be in for it. He couldn't tell them that of course, so he hid behind good manners, knowing it would at least sway Hermione.

"Well, Harry," Hermione nodded slowly, concern tingeing her voice, "I guess you're correct. It really wouldn't be fair of us to just show up like that. But promise me you'll owl us every week, and that you'll be there on your birthday?"

"Of course I will, 'Mione!" Harry smiled again and sank back against his seat, closing his eyes against the relief he felt flooding through him. They wouldn't come with him. His secret was safe. Again his two friends exchanged looks that Harry didn't notice, too caught up in his own thoughts to see the worry they shared.

* * *

When they arrived at King's Cross the Grangers were already there, as were the Weasleys. Harry said his goodbyes and watched as his two best friends were swept away by their families, a stab of jealousy going through him straight to his heart. He smiled sadly, wishing just once he could be just as happy as they were. He found himself wishing he could have a large family like Ron, where even though they didn't have a lot they still had each other and was always happy. He knew things weren't always easy for the redheads family but they were blessed more than any family he'd ever had the pleasure to spend time with before. This didn't say much, as he hadn't spent much time in many families before, but he knew that they were still lucky. 

He was also envious of Hermione. Even though she was an only child and had no siblings to share everything with, the good and the bad, she had everything Harry wished for for himself. She had parents who loved and supported her beyond anything he had ever seen before. He knew they had wanted her to come home after Dumbledore's death but had agreed to let her stay at the school until after the funeral.

He was happy that Hermione had such wonderful parents, but couldn't help but wish that his own parents were still around to have been protective of him like Hermione's were of her. Or that he could have lots of siblings like Ron, so even if his parents weren't around any longer he would still have family to share his life with. Harry's bitter thoughts turned to Sirius and he sighed softly. He'd had family, or the next best thing to it anyways, and it had been his fault he no longer had any family left.

His morbid musings were interrupted when a familiar shadow fell across him and he looked up, eyes flashing slightly with fear before he steeled himself for what he knew was going to come. The forbidding, large, rotund shape of his uncle was above him, blocking out the light of the sun. Harry knew most people looked at his uncle and thought he was simply fat; Harry, however, knew it wasn't fat but muscle that made the man appear so large.

Vernon Dursley scowled at the boy. "Well? What are you waiting for, you good-for-nothing freak? Get up, quietly, and let's get out of here before I'm seen with trash the likes of you." He continued to mutter under his breath about how he had better not be seen with his freak of a nephew by anyone he knew or the boy would pay. Harry got to his feet as quickly as he could; knowing that when his uncle said he would pay he meant it, lifting up Hedwig's cage. Hedwig flapped her wings in the cage, nipping at Harry's fingers. "Oh no," Vernon turned toe yes the cage, scowling even harder, if that was possible. "That _thing_ will not be brought to my house again boy." His hand flew out, knocking the cage from Harry's hands, the door opening to allow the snowy owl its freedom.

Hedwig flew to settle on Harry's shoulder, nipping at his ear worriedly. Frowning slightly at his uncle, he reached up to caress and soothe her feathers. There was no accounting what his uncle would do while he was in a mood like this, as Harry had learned at a very young age. He knew, then and there, that his uncle was ion one of those moods and if he didn't want to make things harder on himself he was going to have to listen to what he had to say. "Go on girl. You go on to The Burrow and stay with the Weasleys for a while." She gave him a look that clearly expressed her concern but took to flight anyways, circling twice before she winged out of sight.

When Hedwig was out of sight Harry lowered his gaze to the ground and meekly picked up his trunk, following his uncle as quietly as he could. _ Maybe if I'm quiet now things won't be so bad when we get home,_ he thought to himself. A false hope, he knew, but he clung to it all the same. As he was leaving the building he thought he could feel someone watching him. He lifted his head and looked around. He saw a faint shimmer behind him and to the right, but when he blinked again it was gone. _That was weird._ He sighed softly and shook his head, hurrying after his uncle.

The two quickly made their way out to the automobile, Vernon still muttering under his breath about the freak. When Harry was close enough to overhear he paled slightly, fingers tightening on the handle of his trunk, fighting back the urge to simply run. _'I'll show that little bastard, he'll get what he has coming to him.'_ This had happened every summer since he first started going to Hogwarts, however Harry contended himself with the knowledge that the Dursley's were still frightened of the order members they had met previously, as well as the conversation with Dumbledore just last year. His throat tightened at the thought of Dumbledore, and when Vernon backhanded him causing him to stumble a few steps, Harry was unprepared.

"Haven't you been listening to _single_ word I said? Get that trunk of yours loaded into the automobile you little freak or you won't be seeing it ever again." He sneered at Harry, and Harry found himself considering that his uncle could sneer almost as well as Malfoy could. Blinking back tears, Harry wiped the back of his hand over his lips, surprised to see a smear of blood from what he could only assume to be a split lip.

"Yes Uncle Vernon. I'm sorry, sir." Turning, Harry quickly lifted the trunk, struggling with the weight and wishing he could use a weightless charm. Damn ministry rules. He was _almost_ seventeen. Harry lifted his hands to close the boot of the automobile, his shirt lifting just enough to flash his wand, tucked into the back of his trousers like a muggle gun, only to be shocked when his uncle's hand snaked out and snatched it from him before he could stop him.

Vernon smiled maliciously at the flash of fear he could see in the boys eyes. Good, the brat deserved to be afraid. After all, every summer before it was the rest of the family that was afraid, now wasn't? Not that Vernon would be admitting that anytime soon, mind you. Not unless he was under the _Cruciatus_. "I'll be taking this from you boy. Can't have you using of that filthy magic of yours, now can we?" He threw the wand onto the front seat of the automobile and rounded on Harry, hand rising to strike as he spun. "Now get in, boy. I've already wasted too much time coming to pick you up, filthy piece of trash."

Harry nodded, his eyes watching the hand warily as he slipped into the backseat of the automobile, buckling up his seatbelt quietly. When Vernon nodded and started off on the drive home Harry let his head slip forward to rest in his hands. His uncle was already in a mood, and Harry knew without a doubt that things would only get worse from here on out. He choked back a sob, fighting back tears. He knew this is what Dumbledore would have wanted, and he had sworn he was Dumbledore's man until the very end.

* * *

Hidden under a disillusionment charm Draco sat on the floor of the automobile, as far away from Harry as he could get. His eyes gleamed with amusement, and he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. This was bloody brilliant! Half the wizarding world was terrified of Harry Bloody Potter, and he was cowed by his fat uncle of a muggle. He was nearly rubbing his hands together in glee, but he managed to withhold the chuckle that threatened to escape. _After everything Potter has put me through it's nice to see that he's getting exactly what he deserves._ He grinned, taking the opportunity to study his nemesis. 

Black, perpetually messy hair, those hideous glasses, and clothing that looked like it should have been thrown out years ago. Ugh. _Who the hell does Potter's shopping? Hideous that's what that is._ He shook his head; _He really could be attractive if he'd only put a little bit of work into it. And did I just think of Potter as being attractive?_ Draco wanted to _Scourgify_ his brain from those thoughts.

He was still watching him when Harry lifted his head, eyes flashing Avada Kedavra green fire towards his uncle, and Draco gasped. He wasn't really cowed or broken at all, was he? Instead he hated the man but would pretend to be submissive. Humph. Reminded him of his own father, the way he would bow and scrape before the Dark Lord when on his own he was just trying to make sure he stayed alive. Honestly, if he didn't know any better he would think Harry was a Slytherin.

The automobile lurched to a stop and Draco wedged himself down into the corner, waiting for the door to open up so he could scurry out without anyone noticing. Harry slid out of the car with some of the natural grace he only seemed to exhibit on his broom and stood up, hurrying towards the trunk to fetch his trunk, Draco following. His hand brushed across Vernon's stomach as he followed after Harry and the man rounded on Harry, eyes locked on the boy. "What did you just do, freak? I have your little stick so you better be watching yourself. None of that magic here, do you hear me?" His hand came down across Harry's face again, and he stumbled, landing against the car, his eyes wide.

"I didn't do anything Uncle Vernon, honest! I'll be good this summer, and I'll be gone on my birthday anyways. You'll never have to see me again." Harry backed up, almost tripping on his trunk as his uncle followed him back those few steps. His eyes watched Vernon's hands warily. He knew there was a very real possibility that things would get worse, but usually his uncle waited at least a few days before the real abuse started, so what was so different this time?

"Oh, I know you'll be good boy. Now get that trunk of yours inside or you'll be back in the cupboard, boy." Harry nodded and quickly began pulling his trunk towards the house and his room. Once inside his room he turned around and started unpacking quickly. With the door shut he lifted the loose floorboard under his bed and quickly shoved in his most important things, wishing that there was room in there for him. Sighing, he finished putting his things away just in time.

The door swung open violently, crashing into the wall and Harry stood up slowly, watching his uncle Vernon push into the room. "Now then, freak, we got a message form one of those bloody birds of your kinds. Do you know what it said? That interfering headmaster of yours is dead, boy. And that means this time no one is going to come save you. You're mine boy. You're going to wish you never came to this house before." While Vernon was talking he had stalked across the room, following Harry's movements as he backed into a corner. His hand lifted for another blow to the boy, and Harry slumped to the floor, head spinning from the force this time.

His uncle's feet lashed into his stomach, and ribs, seeking weakness as Harry tried to curl in on himself, to protect his slender body. Groaning, Harry felt his uncle's foot catch his face, shattering the lens in his glasses. Blood started to flow freely, pooling on the floor underneath Harry. But the pain wouldn't stop, his uncle continued to hit and kick at Harry until he slipped into the blissful peace of blackness that surrounded him and cradled him as a child. But Draco watched, and he saw. Until Harry had passed out they had continued to shine Avada Kedavra green, full of hatred. And Draco found he was just a little bit scared.


	2. Down on Luck

_Title: Everything I'm Not_

_Rating: M for graphic violence._

_Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy._

_Warnings: This fan fiction includes: **slash, m/m, Harry/Draco, abuse, graphic violence, non-consensual incest, and mild pedophilia**. There will be some very dark stuff here. If you don't like the above, or cannot stomach them please do not read. This is, simply, your last warning. All flames and hate-mail/reviews will be promptly ignored. Thank you very much._

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world. _

**Chapter Two: Down on Luck**

For Harry waking up was not a gradual, gentle process. It was instead like a splash of cold water as he jerked awake, biting back a scream of pain. He was lying in a pool of cooling blood; blood which he realized was his own. He groaned, hands searching for his glasses before he recalled that they had been shattered beneath one of his uncles fierce kicks earlier. _It's just my luck that the Dursley's would have been told about Dumbledore's death._ Sighing, Harry struggled to his feet, stumbling in the general direction of his bed, only allowing himself to collapse when he felt his knees brush the mattress. If this summer was anything like the previous ones then he would be in here until morning came, and with morning would come the endless list of chores. And judging by the way his uncle had started right in on the brutal beatings he found he was glad he had packed food in with his things from school. Merlin knew the Dursley's would abstain from feeding him anything more than what was required to keep him alive. If that since his uncle seemed too positive no one would be rescuing him.

Groaning, Harry settled onto the bed, eyes closing as he began the mental catalogue of his injuries. Years of beatings and extensive Quidditch accidents had left him with a good sense of his body and what could be wrong with it. An obviously cut up face- probably from his glasses- a black eye, loose tooth, and three cracked ribs later Harry again fell unconscious, this time into a deep sleep. In the corner across the room from Harry, Draco sat watching the youth sleeping. It seemed that there was much more to be learned about Harry Potter than he had previously surmised. Shaking his head, Draco lowered his forehead to his knees, hoping to get some sleep now that he was sure that Harry was still alive. A fine place to hide it would have been indeed if Harry had died.

His plan to seek peace in slumber was shattered when Harry let out an ear-piercing wail of unmitigated pain, his back arching as though he was under a _Cruciatus_ curse. Harry's hands seemed to be clawing at his forehead, where Draco was positive Harry's scar was. Draco's head snapped up so fast he could tell his neck would be sore come morning. He was still trying to decide if he should stay or flee for the sake of his sanity when he heard the sound of locks being unlocked and the door flew open. Harry's fat uncle stormed in, his face purple with rage. Swallowing Draco pushed himself further into the corner; somehow he had the feeling that even with his wand he wouldn't want to be dealing with the man anytime soon.

Vernon was carrying what appeared at Draco's first glance appeared to be a rather odd looking wand, being long and rather knobby. Without breaking his stride he grabbed Harry by his shirt and threw him over, lifted the stick and crashed it down on Harry's back. "You freak! You can't even be quiet at night times. I don't know why we ever agreed to be so kind as to take the likes of you in. God knows we should have burned you, you little bastard. It could have been just like we used to do to your kind of people." The keening cries refused to stop pouring from his lips, and Vernon seemed to take an immense amount of pleasure in the act of raising the stick and letting it fall upon Harry's unprotected back, each blow harder than the last until finally the screams stopped.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon, sir," Harry managed to croak out, struggling to keep his body from curling in on itself. Bruises were already rising, and blood was oozing from the wounds inflicted from Dudley's smelting stick. Every breath seemed like a new experience in torture, as though it was fire he breathed in instead of air. He was now certain he had at least two broken and no less than 6 fractured ribs. A flash of bitter resentment flooded him as he considered that he would not have been in this mess if his uncle had simply let him keep his wand. He could have at least cast a silencing spell so his uncle would have never heard him screaming like that. He barely acknowledged when his uncle left the room, merely closing his eyes and biting his lower lip to hold back the whimper of pain.

Voldemort was pissed off if that vision was anything to go by. He closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly what it was he had seen. "Malfoy," he whispered, his eyes flashing open as he remembered. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy… Voldemort had them under the _Cruciatus_ curse, trying to find out where Draco Malfoy had gone. Harry struggled into a more comfortable position on the bed, sighing softly. So Draco had never gone back to Voldemort after that night on the tower. Harry found that to be a bit of a shock, he would have thought Draco would be anxious to return. After all, even if he hadn't been the one to kill Dumbledore the headmaster was still dead by the hand of his potions professor. Harry's hands tightened into fists as he lay there, body still shaking from the after effects of his vision.

However, Harry remembered that night on the tower clearly, and behind the rage he felt he recalled something about the Malfoy heir. He had been afraid, and not just for himself, but for his family as well. Sighing softly Harry closed his eyes and allowed his body to slip into blissfully dream free sleep, still considering what he had witnessed in his vision.

When Draco had heard Harry whisper his family name he had sat straight up, eyes widening in fear. _How did he know?_ But when Harry did nothing but lay in thought he allowed himself to relax marginally. If Harry had known he was there he would have said more... Wouldn't he have? He watched the dark haired youth a moment before it had occurred to him. He had overheard the Gryffindors talking about Harry seeing things that the Dark Lord had done, and it seemed that whenever they had commented it was when Harry had been touching that cursed scar on his forehead. Like he had just been doing before. Draco's already pale features became even paler. His family.

-hdhdhdhd-

The third waking wasn't any easier on Harry than the first two had been. He felt as though his body was on fire, and every movement caused him to bite his lower lip to hold back the screams. Copper flooded his mouth as he sat up slowly, bones shifting and grating against each other as he struggled to breathe. Through the red haze of pain he dimly noted his uncle screaming at him about breakfast and Harry nodded. Of course, it was morning and the Dursley's would want their breakfast, even if he could barely breathe without screaming in pain. His pain was of no consequence to them.

For a moment as Harry was struggling to his feet he caught sight of grey eyes in the corner of his room, but when he blinked there was nothing. Grief knifed through him as he remembered grey eyes as his godfather fell into the veil and Harry had to blink back tears. Sirius wasn't alive, so it had to have been his imagination. He shook his head, warding off the phantom pain of grief and struggled to dress. He was surprised to see that some of damage he recalled from the night before had faded, but assumed it was something to do with his innate magic protecting him. He only hoped his uncle wouldn't notice.

Turning and looking around the room one more time, half hoping to see those startling grey eyes once more, Harry whispered to the empty room. "I miss you, Sirius. I'll see you soon." Harry made his way down the stairs at an agonizingly slow pace, unable to move too fast for fear of the pain overwhelming him.

-hdhdhdhd-

Draco silently cursed himself as he watched Harry get dressed and finally leave the bedroom. He should have known better, should have recast the disillusionment charm before going to sleep. He was only lucky that Harry's fat muggle uncle had been so focused on Harry that he hadn't noticed the blond sleeping in the corner of the room. When Harry's eyes had focused on him Draco had realized the charm had slipped and, quickly and quietly, cast it again.

He decided to take the time while Harry was no where around to explore the room. After all, he intended to be spending a fair bit of time here, it was only fair that he knew what it was like. As he wandered around the room he conjured up a cup of Sencha tea, and a few slices of toast for himself. He had seen Harry hide a good portion of things underneath the bed and so he looked through what all was down there. _Invisibility cloak... Explains how the prat was able to sneak around so much. Photo album of his mudblood mother and father. And... Food? Why on earth would Potter need to hide food? _

Seeing as how food was packed down there Draco carefully put everything back where he had found it, and frowned. The corner was far too uncomfortable for him to continue sleeping there. If it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't think of another place where he would be half as safe he doubted very much he would even be here. Shaking his head he opened Harry's wardrobe and frowned. _Does Potter even own anything that fits him?_ Frowning, he waved his wand, magically enlarging a space within. It would suffice for now. In the meantime he thought it might be a good idea to see how Harry lived. From what he had seen so far it was like nothing he had expected.

-hdhdhdhd-

It was only through sheer willpower that Harry was able to manage cooking breakfast for the Dursley's. Flipping the bacon, Harry was just able to hold back a whimper of pain, instead just allowing a soft hiss to escape through his teeth. When the last piece of bacon had been added to the plates on the counter he sighed in relief. "Breakfast is ready Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley." He sank to a stool gratefully and waited for his relatives to finish eating. His mouth watered as he watched them eat, and Dudley grinned around his food, making a point of finishing off what was on his own plate as well as what was on his mum and dads plates as well.

"Well, boy, looks like there's nothing left for you. Your list is over there, I expect it done by the time I get home from work tonight." Vernon smirked, causing Harry to think of Draco Malfoy once more, before dropping a kiss on Petunia and Dudley's cheeks before he left for work.

Shortly after uncle Vernon had left aunt Petunia stepped out to run a few errands, and Harry swallowed, back turned to the kitchen as he stumbled towards his list of chores. He knew the list was going to be long, but when he saw just how long he visibly slumped. How was he to paint the entire house, inside and out, without the aid of magic? Harry was unable to think on that for an overly long period of time before he felt his cousin's hands on him, shoving him against the stove. Harry swallowed back a yelp of combined surprise and pain, and slowly lifted his head. "Yeah, Dudders? I'm a little busy, you know."

Dudley laughed and spun Harry around to face him before slamming his fist into his face. Harry's nose broke under the fist and blood flowed swiftly. Harry simply stood there, knowing from experience that if he fought back and a mark was left on Dudley then tonight's beating would be even worse than last nights had been. The last time he had fought back he'd had both his ankles broken, as well as every finger in his hands. He'd been lucky to heal mostly by his internal magic as his relatives had refused to bring him to a hospital.

-hdhdhdhd-

Draco watched from the door way to the kitchen, eyes widening as he watched his nemesis stand there and take a full out beating from his fat muggle cousin. It was beyond him as to why Harry was putting up with all of this. After all, he was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world. He was needed to survive, to finish this war with the Dark Lord. Draco _needed_ him to survive and kill off the Dark Lord for him.

As Draco was about to pull his wand and stop the beating Dudley finally pulled back, smiling in satisfaction as Harry slumped to the ground. The fat youth turned and left the house and Draco silently sat down at stool and looked over the list of chores.

All of the chores could simply be achieved by a wave of his wand, and so Draco took care of most of the items on the list as he watched Harry's body healing itself once more. He knew it wasn't as good as what Madam Pompfrey could do if they were back at Hogwarts, and Draco suspected that if he had cast any healing charms or given him any healing potions it would be obvious to both Harry and his muggle relatives that someone had helped.

With most of the chores finished, and Harry as healed up as his magic would allow Draco made his way back up the stairs towards Harry's bedroom lost in thought. Everything he had thought he had known about Harry Potter was turning out to be completely false, and Draco was unsure as to how he should be feeling now.

-hdhdhdhd-

Harry was awoken by a foot thudding into the still broken ribs in his chest and was unable to hold back the yell of pain. Blinking his eyes open he peered through the fog to see a large old man smirking down at him. "Couldn't get your chores done, freak? I guess you aren't any better than the rest of us then are you?" _Uncle Vernon must have had a good day,_ Harry thought to himself, wincing as he attempted to regain his feet. He remembered breakfast, followed by the beating from Dudley, yet when he looked around it seemed most of his chores had been finished. _I must have hit my head harder than I thought if I don't remember doing all this. _

Harry shook his head in an effort to clear it only to have the headshake interpreted as a refusal to listen to his uncle. "That's it boy! No supper for you, go to your room and prepare yourself." Harry felt a nervous twitch in his eye but nodded anyways and stumbled back up the stairs. Prepare himself. He hated hearing those words from his uncle. He would take a thousand beatings if only to never hear him say that again.

Pushing open the door to his room Harry looked around, sensing that something was off, however as he only had a few minutes in order to prepare himself he filed the information away in his brain for further attention and stripped down to his boxers, kneeling in front of the door. Merlin only knew how long it would be before his uncle came for his punishment, and in the meantime Harry struggled to hold back the memories that threatened to escape.

-Flashback-

_He'd had a nightmare again, the green light and woman screaming flooding him with terror that no six year old boy should deal with. Harry managed to stumble out of his cupboard, not stopping to wonder why it was unlocked when his uncle locked him in every night, and made his way up the stairs to his aunt's room. When he opened the door, choking back sobs of terror, he stopped, eyes widening at what he saw. He hadn't _meant_ to walk in on that. It had just happened. _

_His uncle had been trying to convince Petunia to put his thing in her mouth and she had refused. It seemed to be a nightly occurrence, with the way that they were behaving and when Harry had walked in he saw his aunt refusing his uncle. It was enough to make the man snap, and he rolled out of bed, still naked, stalking after a frightened Harry who tried to run back to his cupboard._

_Harry tripped at the top of the stairs and crumpled to the floor in a heap at the bottom, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked up at his uncle. "Come here, boy. You've been living here a long time, and I think I've finally found a way to make you worth something." Vernon smirked coldly at the boy, and grabbed Harry by the hair, wrenching him up to his knees. "I'm going to teach you how to suck a cock, you ungrateful freak."_

_Vernon pried Harry's lips open with one hand and shoved his cock into the boys mouth, choking him with it. Harry gagged, eyes wide as he tried to accommodate the fat length of his uncle in his mouth, struggling not to vomit from the texture of it on his tongue. It was over quickly, his throat bathed in his uncle's semen, when his uncle backhanded him. Harry curled up into a ball and sobbed at his uncle's feet. "Did you like that, cock-sucking freak?" Taking Harry's sobs for a negative he laughed coldly and then went back to his bed, leaving the child alone on the floor. And Harry cried, knowing somehow that this wouldn't be the last time his uncle abused his mouth in such a manner.  
_

-End Flashback-

Draco curled up in the corner once more, surprised to see Harry return, obviously distraught over something important. The green fire that usually lit Harry's eyes flickered as though dying out and Draco's own silver eyes narrowed as he began to wonder just what was happening to kill off that passion that made Harry so much fun. He was still considering this when Harry began the agonizing, but quick, process of stripping himself down to his boxers, held up by the use of a safety pin.

Draco could see the thin silver-white of scars covering Harry's body, many of them appearing to be self-inflicted, but the majority seemed to have been from others. He could see scars that appeared much like the marks he had received last night littering Harry's otherwise creamy gold skin. It seemed that last night had been a fairly common occurrence if the scars were anything to judge by. Sighing softly, Draco conjured himself a glass of water and relaxed back, watching Harry as he knelt nearly naked in his doorway, waiting for what he could only assume to be the punishment that was killing Harry's fire. The fire Draco only ever wanted to see burning for him.


	3. Drunken Confessions

_Title: _**Everything I'm Not**

_Rating: M for graphic violence._

Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go too far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy.

Warnings: This fan fiction includes: **slash, m/m, Harry/Draco, abuse, graphic violence, non-consensual incest, and mild pedophilia**. There will be some very dark stuff here. If you don't like the above, or cannot stomach them please do not read. This is, simply, your last warning. All flames and hate-mail/reviews will be promptly ignored. Thank you very much.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world. 

**Chapter Three: Drunken Confessions**

For the first time Harry could honestly say that he was grateful to Professor Snape. Although _Occlumency_ lessons had been an episode of pain he had learnt, and he was more than willing to use those lessons again to help him block his uncle's favourite method of punishment out. His eyes were unseeing as he began the slow process of building up his shields, protecting his mind from intrusion, and protecting his soul from shattering with what he knew was to come. The fire flickered in his eyes, dimming as he built the shields up to protect himself.

A small laugh escaped Harry and he was surprised at the bitterness that was held within. _Snape would die if he knew just what I was using his lessons for. Funny thing is, he thought I hadn't learned anything form him. Idiot. If I hadn't learned he would have been able to witness _thisHarry shook his head slightly, as though he could banish the thoughts with the simple motion. Barriers in place he settled back on his heels and waited, knowing his uncle would take his time, waiting until the family was occupied before he would come in and use him.

Draco was still watching Harry from the corner when he heard the thunder on the stairs that indicated that someone was arriving. He sat up a little bit straighter, eyes narrowing as they watched the way Harry flinched away from the door when his muggle uncle stepped in, shutting the door firmly behind him. Narrowed eyes soon opened in shock, however, when he watched the muggle undoing his trousers and pulling out a flaccid penis, stroking it a few times before presenting it to Harry as though it were a great honour to receive. _What the..? That's his uncle though…_

Vernon's right hand fisted in the messy locks of Harry's hair, pulling him forward violently, other hand cupping his chin and forcing Harry to open his mouth, "You know what to do, worthless little freak." He smirked as Harry's mouth opened, allowing him to slide his cock in between those lips, savouring the feeling of the boy's unwilling mouth surrounding him in its moist heat. "And remember, no teeth boy. You don't have your magic, your friends, or your little stick to save you know. You're mine, slut, and I intend to enjoy it this summer." He continued to thrust in Harry's mouth, reveling in the abuse and rape of his nephew.

Harry gagged on every thrust of his uncle's hips, forcing back the bile. When he could feel that his uncle was nearing completion Harry tightened his lips, his tongue swirling and caressing the cock in his mouth, hoping to end this as quickly as possible. Part of him wanted to end this, to end the violation of his mouth, but a small part of him wanted to end it, to prove to his uncle that he could do something no one else would, that he was good at this at least. He hated that part of himself, but it was the only thing that had kept him sane all these years. Vernon reached out and pinched Harry's broken nose, causing him to let out a yell in pain, and to try and fight to get away from him. Laughing mockingly at the broken boy on his knees in front of him, Vernon came in Harry's mouth. When he pulled away form Harry and let go the boy fell forward, hands barely reaching out in time to stop himself from landing face first on the floor in front of him.

Vernon was still laughing as he tucked himself back into his trousers and left the room to take a shower before going to bed with his wife. Draco shuddered, swallowing back his own bile. _That was his _uncle!_ How could he do something like that..?_ When Harry stirred slightly in front of him he watched, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to decide what to do. He could come out and tell Harry he was there, beg him to let him explain, and hope that Harry would help him. Or he could watch, and wait for a better time. He knew from everything he had seen so far that Harry was not living the perfect life he had always envisioned that the Boy-Who-Lived would have, but somehow he doubted Harry wanted anyone to know that. _Otherwise he would have told all and sundry about his life here and the public would have demanded better for him. Or at the least the Weasleys would have… well... they would have done _something_ more for him._

Harry carefully crawled across the room towards his bed and pulled out a bucket, his stomach clenching before he leaned over it and allowed himself the luxury of vomiting, tasting his uncle's semen as it passed over his tongue once more, but this time he felt cleaner, as though he had purged himself of the filth of his uncle. Sweat plastered strands of his hair to his forehead as he finished, sagging back against his bed. He felt unclean, tainted, and he wanted to forget the shame. He struggled to his stomach and managed to snag a bottle of fire whiskey from his stash under the loose floorboard before sitting up once more.

Pulling the cork off with his teeth Harry leaned back against his bed, taking a large swallow of the alcohol. The fire burned down his throat and helped to relax him, taking away the salty bitter taste from his mouth, and easing the pain in his throat. A few swallows later and his vision was significantly blurred, and he closed his eyes against the world, remembering the grey eyes from earlier that day. "Merlin, Sirius, I miss you. I wish you were here, wish I'd told you." He laughed to himself. "Listen to me, talking as though you could hear me when you're dead. 'Mione said that talking things out would help me feel better though; I just don't think she meant to get drunk and talk to my dead godfather. Who isn't even a ghost either."

Harry took a long pull form the bottle as Draco watched. The name Sirius sounded familiar, but the only Sirius he knew of was Black, a cousin of his. He hadn't even known the man had died, although he imagined it was bound to happen sooner or later as he'd spent so much time in Azkaban he'd probably been a little crazy. Watching Harry drink was making him thirsty and he took a sip of water, listening as Harry began to detail to his godfather what all had happened in his life with the Dursley's. With each description of abuse and torture Draco began to feel sicker than before and was wondering how Harry had managed to live so long. In the Wizarding world children were cared for, and treasured since there were so few of them that to see how this family of muggles had treated Harry worse than a house elf churned his stomach.

"I just wish, Siri, that I could have chosen. I mean, I haven't done more than that, but… I didn't even get to choose that. And now I don't even know if I _could_ do that for anyone. Would I just think of my uncle? And it's not that I don't want to. There are a lot of blokes I'd love to… but..." he watched as Harry shrugged, eyes still closed. _Bloody hell. Saint Potter's gay?_ If Draco hadn't been sitting down he would have fallen over from the shock. He'd thought for sure after that thing he'd had with the Weaselette that Harry was as straight as they come, but here Harry was pouring out his heart in front of him, proving him wrong. Draco couldn't help but wonder just which blokes Harry had thought of, though he imagined the Weasel must have been in there somewhere.

The sound of an empty bottle slipping through nerveless fingers to roll across the floor startled Draco out of his reverie and he jumped, watching as Harry slumped over, passing out. He shook his head before carefully gathering Harry in his arms and placing him in the bed, pulling up the covers to Harry's chin, a small smile gracing his full lips before he retreated back to the wardrobe, casting a silencing charm in case Harry had another nightmare.

-HDHDHDHD-

A week passed in similar fashion. His uncle would leave him a list of chores that no one person could perform and Harry would do his best to do what he could. Every night he was punished for his failures, listening to a litany of reasons why he was a worthless freak. Some nights it was a beating, usually with Dudley's help. Other nights it was the rape of his mouth, and those were the nights that he stayed up drinking until he passed out. Those were the nights he would talk to his godfather. He told Sirius about how strange it had been to suddenly wake up one day and to learn he was a wizard, about how he'd been told his family had died in a car accident. He told him his deepest darkest secrets; how he was afraid he'd end up like Voldemort if he killed him, about the prophecy that stated he would be the one to kill him even if he didn't want to, about how he'd decided he liked both blokes and birds. He was never quite sure how he managed to wake up in his bed those mornings, but he was grateful to wake up warm and feeling lighter for having confessed.

The nights Harry talked about his life Draco would listen in morbid fascination, his hatred for the muggles Harry called his family growing along with his respect for the boy. He could hardly believe that the boy who knew nothing about the wizarding world had lasted as long as he had but was finding himself to be grateful and swore that as soon as they managed to escape this place he would protect Harry from his family. But every time the abuse would begin Draco found he was too afraid to move, and hated himself for that fact. He knew that if he tried and failed then the muggle would kill him and Harry without a second thought, so he bided his time, waiting for when he could help out the boy he was starting to count on for salvation.

The eighth day had passed in the same manner as the days before and the routine seemed to be in place as Draco followed Harry up to their room, stepping silently to avoid detection. Harry was standing by the window of his room, Draco sitting in his usual corner out of the way when a fluttering at the window attracted both boys attention. Harry stepped over to open the window and a familiar snowy owl flew in. Harry reached for the scroll tied to her leg as the door to the room was flung open with enough force to crash into the wall. "What is that ruddy bird doing here, boy? Didn't I tell you I didn't want that piece of filth in my home? Didn't I tell you just what I would do to it?" He advanced into the room, eyes blazing.

Harry stepped between his uncle and Hedwig, his eyes pleading. "Please sir; I don't know why she's here. I'm sure my friends just sent her to check on me, to make sure I was alright. They worry about me, that's all. Please don't hurt her. _Please_!" A meaty fist flew from his uncle's side, landing a hit on Harry's face, causing him to stumble to the side before he stood up once more. Tears shone in Harry's eyes but he refused to allow them to fall, standing firm against his uncle. He'd take any abuse right now to protect his owl. His uncle continued to lash out at him and Harry struggled to return to his feet each time until finally he could no longer stand, slumping into unconsciousness.

Draco watched as Harry defended his bird and was surprised when she flew over to him, landing on his shoulder. With the muggle distracted he wrapped his cloak around her, eyes never leaving the scene before him. He was surprised that Harry could withstand so much pain, and was certain that the young seeker had to have multiple broken bones. He knew if it had been him he wouldn't have been able to leave bed, and yet every day Harry was up to cook meals for his family, and do more chores than a house elf. He frowned slightly, wishing he could just find the courage to jump in, but shook his head. Not now. When Harry finally fell unconscious he was momentarily relieved, but when the fat muggle began stripping Harry down he was shocked, then angered. He knew Harry was still a virgin, he had listened to the boy confess as much the other night, but he feared that this would no longer be the case if things continued to progress.

Draco tiptoed out of the room, heading down the stairs towards the kitchen. He knew that the dishes were in here somewhere… Ah, there they were. Draco took a plate and threw it against the wall, smiling in grim satisfaction as it shattered with a loud noise. He waited a moment before repeating his actions. When he had destroyed the plates the bowls were next. Finally he heard the sound of the family on the stairs. He waited for them to pass before hurrying back up, hoping to get Harry out of there as quickly as possible.

-HDHDHDHD-

When Harry came to he groaned, eyes shutting as he pressed his face into the pillow on his bed. His entire body ached, and he automatically tried to curl up into the fetal position only to discover that he was incapable of moving. His eyes flickered open and he looked around, trying to focus his eyes. When he pulled on his arm he found that it was tied to the bed and he let out a soft whimper. This wasn't a good sign. His uncle must have been furious to tie him to the bed like this and Harry swallowed, eyes closing as he waited, hoping this would be a night where he was only left for morning to arrive and then released. He wasn't sure if he could withstand the belt tonight, not after the beating he'd already received.

Harry had to bite back a groan as he heard the door open and close, straining to hear the foot steps of his uncle he heard instead soft, secretive foot steps that walked around the room, and he could hear things being moved. When he opened up his eyes there was no one there, and his brow furrowed in confusion. He was sure he had heard someone, but when he could see no one he closed his eyes and pressed his face into the pillow once more. He could still hear what sounded to be someone in his room but as they were quiet noises, nothing at all like his uncle, Harry ignored them, hoping to not hear the sounds of his uncle.

Draco watched Harry with one eye it seemed as he started to gather the belongings he knew they would need when they ran. He pulled Harry's cloak from under the bed along with his Firebolt, and his bag. The items were stacked in the corner, cloak draped over top to hide them from view. He considered packing clothing for Harry but changed his mind, deciding that Harry was better off with some new clothing anyways and since they looked about the same size he would share with the boy if he needed to. It offended his sense of beauty to see him in such ugly things. Draco had nearly completed his task when he heard the thunder of foot steps on the stairs and a furious Vernon wrenched open the door, stalking across to the bed, spittle practically foaming at his mouth.

"How did you do it, boy? I know you don't have that stick of yours, you can't do magic, but somehow you did. Or do you have a bloody invisible friend?" Spit was flying from his uncle's mouth as he yelled at Harry, and Harry laughed bitterly. He was pissed off, and Harry was terrified of what would happen. The green fire flared in his eyes as he watched his uncle from his position tied on the bed, face down and spread eagled.

"Tell me uncle, do you really think anyone could be invisible? You're a lot dimmer than I thought. But then again you're just a filthy muggle, aren't you?" Harry winced slightly, knowing his words would only serve to inflame his uncle further, but continuing. When his uncle was mad like this he was less likely to rape his mouth and he wasn't sure if he could stomach it this evening. "And if I could use my magic you wouldn't have me tied down like this, I can assure you!" He screamed as his uncle ripped his belt out of his trousers, lashes raining down on Harry's back, each one opening the skin, causing him to yell out and squirm. Each movement caused his broken ribs to jar and grind against each other, undoubtedly tearing him up internally.

When Harry was starting to think it couldn't get any worse he felt the slick smooth sensation of wood rubbing against his back, digging into the open wounds. His head lifted and he turned enough to catch sight of his wand. _Oh Merlin, no. Is he just taunting me with it? Please say he's just taunting me and nothing else._ Harry's stomach twisted as his uncle smirked. "Oh yes boy, after that show downstairs you're going to learn to behave yourself. I'm going to break this little stick of yours. But first, I'm going to play with it." The wand continued to be rolled in the blood, sliding down over the torn flesh of his back before it pushed against the cleft of his arse.

Harry stiffened, clenching his muscles as bets as he could, trying to keep his wand from going _there_, but it was of no use, it had been liberally coated in his blood and slid between the cheeks, plunging deep within him. Harry bucked and screamed, fighting and clawing to get away from the burning tearing sensation of being violated in this manner. His screams were punctuated by sobs, and pleas for his uncle to let him go, promises that he would never use magic again, that he would do anything he wanted but to stop. The pain didn't stop, but after a few minutes he felt the wand retract, replaced by the thick heat of his uncle and Harry screamed, his back arching as he saw white fire gathering before his eyes. The fire surged, flared and his uncle was thrown across the room, hitting the wall with a dull thump.

Draco choked back the vomit as he watched Harry's uncle violate him with his own wand, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks as he held onto his robes to keep from lunging after the man and killing him with his bare hands. Even if the beatings he had originally seen were something he felt that Harry had deserved, and after listening to his drunken confessions he no longer thought that, he could not condone this rape, the theft of Harry's innocence. He was torn out of the indecision when the muggle was flung across the room and without a thought Draco stepped in front of the fat muggle, wand drawn and disillusionment charm dropped.

Vernon growled and lunged towards Draco, blood streaming down the side of his face from the wound in his forehead. Draco took a step backwards before narrowing his eyes, and waving his wand. "_Avada Kedavra!_" He watched with an air of detachment as the muggle slumped to the ground in slow motion, eyes glossing over as death overcame the man. He spun around, dropping to his knees in front of Harry's bed, watching as green eyes widened slightly.

"Sirius..? But you're dead…"

Draco swallowed, lifting his wand and pointing it at Harry before whispering softly, "_stupefy."_ When the green eyes closed Draco gathered him in his arms, summoning their belongings from the corner and apparating them away to the one place he thought they might be safe, where Harry could receive the healing he would need.


	4. Veritaserum

_Title: _**Everything I'm Not**

_Warnings: This story includes: **slash, m/m, Harry/Draco, abuse, graphic violence, non-consensual incest, and mild pedophilia**. There will be some very dark stuff here. If you don't like the above, or cannot stomach them please do not read. This is, simply, your last warning. All flames and hate-mail/reviews will be promptly ignored. Thank you very much._

_Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. Unfortunately._

_A/N: I feel the need to say **thank you **for all of the wonderful reviews! I'm absolutely thrilled that people are not only reading this but actually enjoying it so far!_

**Chapter Four: Veritaserum**

The air was muggy from the heat of summer, barely moved by the barest brush of a breeze that rustled through the browning leaves on the trees. The soft _pop_ of apparition filled the air, followed by the sound of feet landing on the cobblestone walk. Hidden underneath a dark black cloak, hood pulled up to disguise his blond hair; Draco tensed, looking around to see if anyone had seen the arrival. When no one was to be found he draped the invisibility cloak over the unconscious boy in his arms and laid him down on the dead grass beside the door. He knew he was taking a chance, and he would need his hands free for this. "I hope like hell I'm right Potter, because if I'm not we're in trouble." Sighing, he pulled out his wand and stepped up to the door, knocking imperiously.

Through the open window there was the sound of quiet cursing as someone lumbered to answer the door. Taking the time to steel himself, Draco pulled his wand out, holding it at waist level while waiting, hoping that his suspicions were correct. _Of course, it would just be my luck for me to be completely wrong and both Potter and I die gruesome horrifying deaths._ At the thought of Harry dying Draco was reminded of the condition of the young man lying in the grass beside him and his heart clenched in pain.

When the door swung open Draco lifted his wand, "_e__xpelliarmus_!" The look on his professor's face almost made him laugh, but Draco pushed his way inside the building, wand never once wavering as he held it on him. "I am sorry professor, but I can't be taking any chances." He collected Snape's wand and slid it into his back pocket before gesturing towards the sofa. "Please, sit down. We need to talk."

Every movement Draco made was haughty, filled with that insufferable self-confidence the boy always exuded, but something was off to Severus, and he frowned before sitting down. He knew it wasn't likely that his status as a spy had been discovered, or if it had that Draco had been the one sent for him. Frankly, the Dark Lord was still out for his blood. What concerned him was that Draco had come back here, to a known death eater, when he knew there was a possibility of him being turned in. Something was wrong, and he settled back, waiting for the child to tell him just what it was. "Well, are you going to tell me what's on your mind? I believe I made it perfectly clear to you when last I saw you that it wasn't to happen again."

Draco settled into the chair in front of Severus and the façade of confidence dropped as he chewed on his lower lip, hands curling into fists before relaxing. "Sir, can I trust you? Tell me now, because if I can't I'll simply obliviate you and we can go somewhere else." He was so nervous he didn't notice that he said 'we'; however Snape noticed and filed away the information for later. "Merlin, even if you do tell me I can trust you it could be a lie. I'm a fool." He started to stand before he was cut off by one word.

"Veritaserum," Draco paused in his ranting, and Snape smirked. "One drop lasts fifteen minutes. You may ask your questions and be assured that I'm not lying to you." He chose not to inform him that he would still be able to lie through such a small dosage, he was an _Occlumens _after all and had spent years learning to resist the pull of the truth serum. He gestured to the potions cabinet and Draco fetched the slim bottle, holding it out to the professor, who quickly let one drop fall onto his tongue. "Don't waste your time, Mr. Malfoy."

"I suppose the first question I should ask is 'what is your full name?'" Draco's familiar drawl filled the air as he rested against the arm of a chair.

"Severus Nathaniel Snape."

Draco nodded, and looked at him quietly for a moment before asking him again. "Can I trust you?"

"That depends on what you want to trust me with. I won't turn you over to the Dark lord if that's what you're asking."

He thought for a moment on how to phrase the question. "Will you hold my confidence as though it were your own, Sir?"

"For as long as it's within my best interests to do so." Snape smirked, rolling his eyes. "Time's running short."

"Do you hate, Potter?" The question was asked casually, but the tightness around the blonde haired youths eyes and mouth gave away that it was a serious question.

Severus took a moment to consider the question. It wasn't likely that Draco was spying for the Dark Lord, and based on the way the questioning had been going thus far and the mention of another person with Draco he suspected he knew why Draco was asking him. He spat out the answer, lips curling in disgust, "no. I do not hate the Potter brat"

Draco nodded, casting a binding spell on the professor. "I'll trust you for now, only because he needs help and I can't do it by myself. However, I _will_ leave you bound while I go for him." Turning, his robes snapped around his seeker slim body as he stalked to the door and gathered Harry in his arms again, still hidden beneath the cloak. When he pushed back into the building he pushed the door closed and settled his burden down on the couch before uttering a locking charm on the door. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Draco looked up to watch his professors face as he pulled the cloak off, revealing the battered and broken form of Harry.

Professor Snape's eyes flashed, anger and revulsion, quickly hidden by the mask he wore daily. "Who did this to him?"

The anger in Snape's eyes was enough to show Draco what he needed to see, and he ended the binding spell, finally allowing himself to pitch forward, fighting back his own tears. "I killed him. I had to, he would have killed us." He looked up, caught in the professor's arms as he tried to soothe his former student. "It was his uncle. Every day… he was abused, and… and… Merlin, I can't even say what that man did to him. I couldn't watch it anymore. It was horrible, Sev."

Snape blinked, contemplating this turn of events. If he was hearing Draco correctly when he left here a week and a half ago he had gone running to Harry, but he knew there was no way the boy would have allowed Draco to live with him. There had to be more to the story than what Draco was telling him, but he merely nodded and slid Draco off his lap. "Let's patch him up, and you can tell me all about it." Draco nodded and woodenly got to his feet, handing him back his wand without a second thought.

The two worked companionably, Draco fetching ingredients and potions while Snape cast a multitude of healing charms, listening as Draco told him what all had happened. At first he was amused at the young Slytherin's ingenuity at hiding with his enemy unawares. His hand tightened on the wand, repulsed and angered on behalf of the boy lying broken on his sofa. An hour passed, two hours before he finally sat back on his heals and murmured a binding charm, his eyes flickering up to meet Draco's grey ones. "I doubt he'll be thrilled to see us when he wakes up." He stood and made his way to the kitchen for a drink while Draco sat next to Harry.

-HDHDHDHD-

The first thought that ran through Harry's mind when he woke was the realization that he didn't hurt. Shifting slightly on the soft surface under him, he marveled at how nice it was to be able to move without pain. Sighing softly, a smile curved his lips before it finally occurred to him to open his eyes and find out where he was. He was greeted by a pair of grey eyes close to his own, and let out a startled gasp. He tried to back away to see more, but was stopped by the bindings holding him still. When he looked up again he realized his mistake when he saw white-blond hair swinging forward to cover the boys face. "Malfoy," he spat, lips curling. "Going to give me to your Dark Lord? Merlin knows you couldn't kill a man so that can't be what you have planned for me."

Draco's head lifted, tears streaming down his cheeks. "That's bollocks Potter. I have killed a man, though right now I'm wondering why I would have done something as stupid as saving your arse." He snapped, eyes flashing silver fire, not noticing the confusion in Harry's eyes. He stood and walked towards a door out of Harry's sight. "Professor, he's awake." He leaned against the wall, waiting for the older man to arrive.

He knew Draco had been unable to kill Dumbledore, so Harry was confused as to whom he was speaking of killing, was mourning killing. "Who?" The soft voice carried, full of concern. Draco snorted, pushing away from the wall, refusing to answer. "It doesn't matter, does it, Potter? What's done is done." He turned, barely avoiding Snape as he walked out of the room.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, back with us are you?" Harry's head snapped up and he snarled, straining against his bonds, trying to get free to attack the man who had killed his mentor. "Before I let you go, I think we need to have a talk. What do you know of wizards' oaths, and more specifically, the unbreakable vow? Never mind, I'll I just assume you know nothing, since that is the norm for you, isn't it?" Sighing, he waved his wand, silencing Harry with a gag he conjured.

"A wizard's vow will compel one to follow it to the letter; however those of us with a strong will can easily break free. It's much like _Imperius_ only the wizard chooses it willingly. With a strong enough will you can break that. An unbreakable vow is just that. There is no choice but to follow it to the very letter. Now, listen closely Potter, as I will not repeat myself. My actions were done by an unbreakable vow. A vow I swore doubly, both to Narcissa Malfoy, and to Albus Dumbledore himself." Snape released the gag and sat in a chair, watching Harry closely as he seemed to actually think for once.

"So, if I'm to believe you, then you're still a spy, and a member of the Order?" Harry looked over at the former professor, chewing on his lower lip.

"No. Unfortunately, Albus never saw fit to tell everyone all of his plans, and thanks to the lack of information no one else knows." Harry nodded, closing his eyes and frowning.

"Except me; I know now, and I'm going to need all the help I can get." There was no point in not trusting the professor; he was tired and obviously in the time he'd been here Snape had taken care of him instead of bringing him to the Dark Lord. Sighing, Harry changed the subject, too tired to think much longer. "So how did I get here anyway? Last I remember was uncle Ver-" His eyes grew impossibly wide and he suddenly felt the urge to retch. "Oh Merlin, what happened?" he whispered, his voice full of horror. The last thing he could remember was his uncle, about to rape him.

A bucket appeared in front of Harry and the bindings were released. He rolled over and retched, clutching at his stomach. He could feel cool hands rubbing his back, and a damp cloth was placed on the back of his neck. Whimpering, he leaned into the slim body next to him and struggled to hold back the tears. Part of him reveled in the feeling of the warmth next to him, while another part wanted to pull away in fear and revulsion. "Tell me what happened at your relatives." Snape's voice cut through the fog in his head, sounding from across the table, and Harry shook his head. "He... He's never done that before, honest Professor. He was just upset, I made him angry, and... I deserved it."

"That's bollocks Potter! No one deserves what that muggle did to you, no one!" Harry turned his head, and caught sight of pewter eyes, staring into his own jade ones. "I saw everything… I saw it all." A moan of terror sounded through the air and Harry was surprised to realize the sound had come from him. Someone had seen; knew what happened. He grabbed at the bucket and was ill again. Worse yet, the person who had seen was Draco of all people. Harry could imagine the revulsion he would see in Draco's eyes if he looked up, or would it be glee at the torture he had suffered? Harry wasn't sure but he would be damned if he looked up to see.

Another thought hit Harry like a blasting curse, and his head finally whipped up to stare at Draco, eyes wide as he tried to scramble away. "You were there. The entire time, you were there. You… heard everything." The tears would not be held back any longer and they spilled over, trailing down his cheeks to land unheeded on his lap. "Merlin, I'm an idiot." Groaning, he buried his head in his hands and shook his head.

At the look from Severus Draco winced slightly. He had neglected to tell the man about the nights Harry had drunk himself into a stupour and told him all about his life; he rather suspected that he knew more about the Boy-Who-Lived than even his best friends did at this point. Unfortunately, knowing him as well as he did now, and from all those years of watching him Draco also knew that it was going to be hard for Harry to trust him. Not that he could blame him, really. He wondered though, if Harry had clued in that he had heard everything, when would he clue in that it had been Draco making sure that he was tucked in at night. _Merlin, that makes me seem like his mother._

Rolling his eyes at himself he got to his feet. "You need to eat something Potter." Draco turned to head towards the kitchens when he was stopped by a hand on his arm. Looking down, his eyes locked with Harry's.

"Malfoy…" his voice trailed off as he dropped his gaze and looked at Severus, almost searching for the inner strength to go on. After a moment, the professor nodded, understanding what Harry was trying to say. If Draco had been hiding at Harry's since the end of school then he had no way of knowing what had happened to his family. His hand was pulled from Draco's sleeve and a letter was pressed into in its stead.

"Later Potter, since it appears I can no longer follow the Dark Lord it seems I'm dependant on you to be my saviour as well as the rest of the Wizarding Worlds. And that means you need to eat." A smirk curled the blond boys lips but the malice that used to chine in those grey eyes was suspiciously absent and Harry nodded. Turning Draco left the room to get something for the two of them to eat and Harry looked down at the letter in his hands. The writing was Hermione's and Harry nearly tore into it.

_Harry,_

_I've been doing some research on what the Headmaster had told you about, but I need to get some more books. I wish we were back at Hogwarts! Or that wizards had something like the internet. Anyway, I hope your aunt and uncle are treating you well. Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley said that they'll be sending Fred and George to get you on your birthday so make sure you have everything ready. And don't let them trick your cousin into eating any of their candy this time!_

_Malfoy still hasn't been seen, nor has Professor Snape but the Order is looking for them. Hopefully we'll find them soon. Honestly, what was the Headmaster thinking in having a Death Eater working in the Order? I'm just surprised that no one has tried to hunt down the Order yet. Knock on wood for me Harry._

_I miss you!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry shook his head, smiling ruefully. He knew that Hermione would find the information on the Horcruxes; he just hoped that she found it soon. He wanted this war to be over as soon as possible. "The Order is looking for you and Malfoy, sir." Snape snorted and narrowed his eyes.

"Of course they are, Potter. You can't honestly have thought they would just take the death of their leader lying down, did you?" Shaking his head he got to his feet and looked at Harry. "After eating you and Malfoy can share the guest bedroom. Make sure you aren't seen if you feel the need to leave. But as I have some potions to finish brewing I will be leaving you two to your meal, and then get some sleep Potter. You're useless when you're in this state." And with those final parting words he left the room, robes snapping behind him.

-HDHDHDHD-

Harry sat back against the couch, pushing away the half eaten sandwich and empty bowl before turning his gaze on Draco. From everything he had learned so far tonight Draco had been following him all summer long and had seen everything that his uncle had done. Thinking back on everything it made sense. He had the feeling many times throughout the summer than someone had been there, but when he hadn't seen anyone he had pushed that thought away to the back of his mind. Part of him wished he hadn't as he hated the fact that Draco had seen him at his weakest. But another part of him, the part that suspected that Draco had been the one to save him, was glad that Draco had been there.

"Potter?" Harry blinked, realizing by the expression on Draco's face that he had been calling his name for a while. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I just wanted to ask if you wanted a drink." Smirking, Draco set down two shot glasses and an unopened bottle of Fire whiskey on the table between them. "I'm sure you know how depressing it is to drink alone."

Harry smirked, shaking his head. "But I wasn't alone." He accepted the shot and tossed it back before pouring another. "You were there the whole time, remember?" He lifted the glass and smiled as they both drank at the same time.

Hours later Harry was nearly passed out and Draco groaned, scooping Harry up into his arms. "Damn Potter, you're too damned light." He ignored the light giggles from the younger boy and laid him out on the bed. When he tried to get back up he stumbled, the room swirling around him as he fell on top of Harry. Laughter rang out from the two boys before drifting off as they stared into each others eyes. Draco lowered his head and brushed his lips over Harry's, catching the small moan in his mouth as they continued to watch each other. _What am I doing? He's a bloody rape victim; I can't take advantage of him like this. Merlin, but I'm a fool. _ Slowly Draco pulled away, and slid off the bed, eyes shuttered as he looked over at Harry. "I'll be in the other room if you need me. Good night Potter." He stalked out to the living room, leaving Harry alone not noticing the tears that sprang up in Harry's eyes.

Harry bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, filling his mouth with it's coppery flavour as he dug his nails into his arms and clawed at his skin. _Of course he wouldn't want to stay with me. I'm just a whore, a fuck toy. And he watched as uncle Vernon did _that_ to me. _Tears spilled over again and Harry rolled over, burying his face in a pillow as he smothered his pain. After a time the shaking of his shoulders stilled and he drifted into an uneasy sleep.


	5. After the Kiss

_Title: _**Everything I'm Not**

_Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy._

Authors Note: My apologies for how long this has taken to get out (and for being so short). I'm working on chapter six, however writer's block is a pain. Instead I decide to write a short interlude from Draco's POV, with the lightest touching of smut. (Note: I really don't do too well writing smut. L) In any event, I'm about 2/3s of the way through writing chapter five and it should be up and out soon I would hope. Oh, and currently I don't have a beta reader, so if anyone would be interested please e-mail me or review and drop me a note. Thanks! 

**Chapter Five: After the Kiss**

After kissing Harry, Draco was stunned. There had always been an attraction there, however mild. After all, he knew from an early age that he was attracted to both sexes. As he grew older and the females... developed, he found that the attraction he felt for them dwindled. By fifth year he knew he was gay, and found that his eyes would follow after one Harry Potter if he didn't control himself. When they fought on the Quidditch pitch he found himself hard; a combination of the pain and the writhing mass of furious teenager. But to kiss Harry now? He knew it was not a Slytherin thing to do, yet he pulled himself away from the slim body in front of him and left the room, not seeing the look of pain and rejection that passed over the other youths face.

Merlin knew he wanted Harry, but Draco also knew that Harry would need time to recover after everything he noticed. And after listening to a drunken Harry for that week he also knew that Harry had a very low self-esteem. When Draco claimed him he wanted it to be forever, not some one-off they had because Harry needed someone to love him. Sighing, he ran his hand through perfect blond hair and sat on the couch, his eyes wandering over the few belongings of Harry's that he had brought. Somehow he was beginning to regret not packing clothing; although he had a feeling they would be able to pick something up in Diagon Alley.

It was funny, in a way. Both youths were being hunted by a crazed mad man, but Harry could (and would) go out in public without fear, and Draco found himself hoping that he would be somewhere safe. It wasn't that he wanted to hide away from the war so much as he wanted to remain safe. Self-preservation, at least, was a Slytherin trait, and one that Draco was quite proud to have. He laid his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He could still smell Harry here, and a slight smile crossed his lips as his head lolled. Breathing evened as Draco fell into the peaceful confines of sleep, for the first time confident in the safety of the young Gryffindor.

_He was in his bed room at the Manor. His familiar four poster bed stood in the middle, silver carved dragons stretching up to the canopy, curtains of emerald green silk hanging down to hide the view within. Hips swaying with a preternatural grace, Draco stalked towards the bed, his toes curling in the thick black pile of carpet beneath his feet. As he tore at the curtains his eyes were met with a green the same as the curtains. "Harry," he breathed, swaying against the bed as he caught himself on one of the dragons._

_Harry was laying spread out on the bed, seeker slim body naked and shining gold on the black silk sheets, velvet comforter shoved to the foot of the bed. A low moan escaped Draco's lips as he kneeled reverently, crawling towards the boy who had captured his heart. He wanted to taste those lips, that neck, his chest… Groaning, he grasped Harry's arms and lips crashed, tongues tangling in the wet heat of their mouths. It was wet, and messy, and arousing. Draco slid his length against Harry's thigh, groaning as hands gripped his hips, pulling him up to straddle the youth beneath him._

_When they broke apart for air, Draco kissed along Harry's jaw, one hand fisting in Harry's hair to twist his head this way and that, allowing him further access to the golden skin beneath his lips. The other hand gripped Harry's hip, holding him down so he could not buck up and rub his length along Draco's. Moaning filled the air with its sweet music as Draco continued to savour, and love the Gryffindor beneath him, taking his time._

"_Draco, love…" Harry moaned into Draco's ear, hands pulling Draco down against his body. "Make love to me." Groaning, Draco nudged his length along Harry's entrance and pushed slowly. The moans turned to screams, and Harry's voice filled his ears, no longer loving, but filled with terror. "No. No, no, no, no... This isn't happening; this is just a dream..."_

His eyes flared open, and Draco pushed off the couch and was in the guest room without conscious thought. He crossed the room, and shook Harry's shoulder, sinking onto the bed beside him. "Harry? Potter, are you alright?" When the boy's emerald eyes opened he heaved a silent sigh of relief. It was just a dream. But somehow he found himself wishing that his own dream had been a reality.


	6. Dreams and Visions

_Title: _**Everything I'm Not**

_Rating: M for graphic violence._

_Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy._

_Warnings: This fan fiction includes: **slash, m/m, Harry/Draco, abuse, graphic violence, non-consensual incest, and mild pedophilia**. There will be some very dark stuff here. If you don't like the above, or cannot stomach them please do not read. This is, simply, your last warning. All flames and hate-mail/reviews will be promptly ignored. Thank you very much._

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world._

_A/N: Sorry everyone, but this chapter is shorter than the others. But it's here, that counts for something, right? I still don't have a beta, so if you do happen to find any errors feel free to let me know so I can fix them. In the mean time... enjoy! _

**Chapter Six: Dreams and Visions  
**

_He was back in that cupboard again. Without opening his eyes he could tell. The air still tasted the same, moldy and stale, with a hint of rotten eggs. He could feel phantom whispers of spiders and other bugs clambering over his skin and he suppressed a shudder of revulsion as he inched towards the door, pressing his ear against the unpainted wood, careful of slivers. It took a while, but the faint mumbling noise from the other side started to make sense, and Harry whimpered slightly, eyes seeking out some space to hide, even though he knew there was no where. _Not again, please, not again_ he thought to himself as he pressed his back into the corner. The whimper became a sob as the handle of the door turned and opened, revealing his uncle. Harry dropped to his knees, his eyes lowered to the ground all his pleas leaving him in a rush as he relaxed slightly, not wanting to anger the man._

_"Well, freak, it seems there just might be some use to you yet." Smirking, his uncle stepped back and Harry's head whipped up as he watched another man walk into the closet, his hand already unfastening his trousers and pulling out a semi-hard cock, stroking it a few times in Harry's direction. Whimpering Harry crawled over, mouth opening slightly in invitation. Somehow, Harry knew this wasn't the first time his uncle sold his mouth, just as he knew it wasn't the last time either. All of the times blended together to merge into this… The man in front of him just continued to fuck his mouth in slow, steady strokes before finally releasing into Harry's throat. _

_A hand cupped Harry's chin and forced him to look up, and he jerked back when he saw Draco Malfoy's cold eyes and smirk on him. "You're just a slut, Potter. You're no good for anything else. At least this way no one will die." His voice softened slightly in mock sympathy, but the chill remained in his eyes and Harry felt a phantom pain lance through his chest._

_Harry pulled away, clinging to the walls of his corner. "No. No, no, no, no... This isn't happening; this is just a dream..." _

_"I assure you, Mr. Potter, this is no dream." When Harry looked Draco had been replaced by Voldemort and he swallowed back the scream and shook his head. _

_"No! Get out of my bloody head, Tom!" Harry doubled over, hands pressed to his head as he tried his best to fight out of the dream. Ignoring the man in front of him, Harry started working on shields, and on throwing the Dark Lord out of his mind. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! I know better than to sleep without my blasted shields up!

Groaning, he woke up instantly when he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. "Harry? Potter, are you alright?" His eyes flickered open and rested on the blond man sitting on the bed next to him before nodding slightly and letting his eyes drop, remembering his dream.

"I'm fine, Malfoy." Twisting his shoulders out of his grasp Harry rolled over on the bed, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry I woke you. It shouldn't happen again." Ignoring the snort Harry sighed softly, waiting to feel the weight lift off the bed, and was surprised when instead of leaving Draco laid down next to him.

Silence filled the room, and Harry could hear the slow, even breathing from Draco as he settled in for the night. Slowly he allowed himself to relax and was startled when the silence was interrupted. "What was this one about?" Blinking, Harry rolled over his eyes meeting Draco's.

"Merlin, you really were there the entire time weren't you?" He paused a moment, then looked at Draco, a question in his eyes. "After that first night my uncle never heard me scream again. That was that your doing, wasn't it?" At Draco's nod, Harry gave him a tight smile. "I suppose I should thank you then. Anyway, it wasn't important, my dream tonight that is. In a way it's a relief to only have a nightmare instead of those bloody visions." His lips circled in a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and Draco sighed softly.

_How can Potter's eyes be so flat and dead? They're supposed to be full of fire, and passion, not... broken. _Shaking his head slightly, Draco moved as though to run his fingers over Harry's cheek but stopped at the last minute. _I swear, I will return the life to your eyes._ "Get some sleep, Potter. Snape's an early riser and will want to ask more in the morning." _I'll watch over your sleep... _Draco watched as Harry's eyes slipped close and his breathing evened into that of sleep, a small smile curving his lips. Giving in to temptation Draco brushed his fingers over the other boy's cheek and leaned forward to gently kiss his lips once more as Harry slept on.

-HDHDHDHD-

Morning brought with it the gentle scent of an herb garden, overlaid by the scent of breakfast being cooked. When Harry opened his eyes he took a moment to become adjusted to the room he was in. Midnight blue silk sheets adorned the large four-poster cherry wood bed, and Harry took the time to luxuriate in the gentle comfort of waking in a place where he felt safe. On the pillow beside him he could still smell Draco, and he smiled as he stretched before turning to slide out of bed. As he tried to stand, his vision darkened and he swayed, a whimper escaping his lips. _Merlin, that hurts!_ Groaning, he sank back to the bed and closed his eyes. _Maybe I could just go back to sleep, and when I wake up this will all have been a bad dream..._ The sound of footsteps making their way towards the bed, and the scent of breakfast quickly dissuaded Harry of that notion, and sighing he opened his eyes.

Severus set a tray down on the bed next to Harry, and handed him a potion. "There was too much damage for neither Draco nor I to fully heal you. As we are still being pursued we were unable to ascertain assistance from a more reliable source and have had to make do with the spells and potions on hand. Unfortunately, that means that a good deal of your healing will have to be done the muggle way." His mouth twisted with disgust and he gestured at the food. "I suggest that you eat, Potter, and then make yourself presentable. I believe we have a great deal to discuss."

Harry threw back the potion, grimacing at the taste as he nodded. "Yes, Sir." He spooned the eggs into his mouth, eating slowly, savouring each bite. His eyes never once left the tray of food, however, as though he was afraid that someone would try to take it away from him. The footsteps of the professor faded from the room and Harry allowed himself to eat faster. Merlin, but it was good to eat a decent meal, and one he hadn't been forced to cook himself either. When he had finished about half of what was on the plate he found he was too full to eat anymore, and so he carefully slid out of the bed. He looked around the room for some clothing, but was unable to find his own. There was an outfit laid out on the chair in the corner of the room that appeared to be in his size, if a little too tall, but was of obvious quality, and Harry grimaced. _Must be Malfoy's..._ Sighing, he pulled on the clothes, and shook his head, a rueful smile lighting his face. _Trust Malfoy to own silk boxers…_

When Harry was fully clothed he stepped out of the room, carrying the tray towards where he could hear the other two talking. Luckily, he found them in the kitchen and he set his tray on the counter before looking for a place to sit, his body already throbbing from the short walk. Draco, noticing the hidden pain, pulled out a chair and nodded. "Sit, Potter. You look as though you're about to keel over. And dare I say it, but the clothing actually suits you. Much better than the clothing that looked as though it would fit that elephant of a cousin of yours." A slight grimace crossed Harry's face as he succumbed to the need to collapse, and settled onto the seat instead.

"Not that I don't appreciate this Malfoy, but I need to know. Why? You bloody well hate me. I can understand Snape helping me, but why are _you_ helping me?" A look of consternation passed over Draco's face momentarily before it was masked behind the facade of aloofness. If Harry didn't know any better he would have said that Draco didn't hate him, based on that one look alone. Maybe even that Draco had been harbouring some fort of _feelings_ for him. Frowning slightly, Harry made a note to think that over at a later point and instead waited for an answer from the blond.

Draco arched a perfect eyebrow and looked almost amused as he watched Harry. "Why? Because, _Potter,_ I would rather follow you than that snake. At least you haven't seen fit to threaten the families of those who are following you." Harry visibly paled as he recalled one of the recent visions, but without knowing for certain he wasn't about to reveal what he knew, or at least suspected to be the case with the young mans parents. He did, however, resolve to speak with Snape at length regarding the situation with the Malfoy's. Draco continued on, "besides, I can't go back to Voldemort, which leaves me with you. You are the bloody saviour after all." Seeing Harry's nod he smirked. "And after everything I've heard so far this summer I get the feeling that sticking with you won't be quite the... hardship I had imagined."

Blushing, Harry ducked his head. "Cripes, I'd forgotten that you would have heard a lot. I guess I can't hope that you might have been giving me some privacy when I was... drinking?" Both boys knew he meant the conversations Harry had been having to his godfather, and the red grew brighter as the silence filled the air. Struggling to remember what all he had confessed to, Harry closed his eyes, sighing softly. _What does it matter anyway? What Malfoy knows, he knows_. At least he hadn't told everything... there were some things he hadn't even been able tell a dead man. Shaking his head, Harry tried to clear his mind of the dream from the night past and instead met Snape's eyes across the table.

"You said we needed to speak, Sir, and I happen to agree with you. However, I have to state that I don't feel perfectly safe here. You'll have to forgive me, but this doesn't appear to be a safe place for me to hide." He paused a moment, looking over at the blond. "Nor does it appear to be a safe place for Malfoy either." He chewed on his lower lip, thinking. There had to be someplace where they could go where they would be safe, but he wasn't sure. There was always Grimm—

"Grimmauld Place would be adequately safe for the two of you. With Dumbledore's passing the _Fidelius_ charm should have transferred over to the owner, in this case you. There should be no issue with you letting Draco know its location and you can floo over immediately." Snape sneered at the raven haired youth. "And I would suggest you do so as the Dark Lord can call upon me at any time. However, you will need to select a new secret keeper at some point in the near future if you intend to be remaining in residence. You will _not_ be coming back here, so make certain you have your belongings gathered and are out within the hour."

Pivoting on his heel, black robes furled around the professor as he stalked out of the kitchen, leaving the two youths alone together. Harry surveyed Draco as the blond finished drinking his tea. "At this time I'm taking Snape's word that you can be trusted, Merlin only knows why. However since we will be in my house I imagine I'll be safe enough." Wandlessly _accio_'ing a piece of parchment, quill, and ink he jotted down the address and passed it across the table to Draco. Harry was so busy concentrating on the writing that he never noticed the look of awe that crossed over Draco's face at the display of power. "Memorize that address, and then burn it. I will not take chances with my life Malfoy, or with the lives of my friends."

When Harry looked up Draco's face had returned to its usual mask of indifference. Harry struggled to his feet and left the room, following after Snape. "Sir, might I have a word with you?" After a gesture from Snape, Harry followed him into what appeared to be a private study. The walls were paneled in a dark wood, lined with book shelves that were over filled with books. A few books held titles that were obviously on potions, with others regarding the Dark Arts. It appeared that the professor had a love of learning, even if he hadn't been the best of teachers.

Severus turned and sat down in one of the plush, if a little threadbare, looking arm chairs, gesturing towards the one across from him. "Have a seat, Potter. What, pray tell, is this about?"

"No, thank you. I'm afraid if I sat down I may not be able to stand. As you're aware I never fully mastered my Occlumency… I feel it prudent to advise you that I had a vision of the last meeting. I haven't said anything yet, but…" Harry shoved his hand through his hair, sighing softly. "Malfoy deserves to know from someone he cares about." At Snape's nod Harry turned to the door. "I believe I'll get my belongings together." He stepped out of the room, heading towards the guest bedroom, not once noticing the blond man who had been eavesdropping.

-HDHDHDHD-

Draco slid back into the shadows, his brow furrowed. What did he deserve to know? And what was it that Harry had meant by having a vision of the last meeting? A Death Eater meeting, perhaps? Frowning, he was lost in thought until Harry had left the hallway and he pushed into the study. "Well, Sev, what's going on?"

Severus frowned slightly, but that was the only indication of his reluctance to continue. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"It's not bloody nothing! I heard Potter. What the hell is it that's going on? What is he so bloody worried about me, a bloke he hates, knowing about?" Draco snapped, stalking across the room, hands gesturing wildly. Stopping suddenly, Draco visibly paled. A death eater meeting, something he should hear from someone he cared about… "Oh Merlin, no…" His voice cracked and he sank into the chair that Severus had just offered to Harry moments before, and looked up at his mentor, tears shimmering in grey eyes.

Severus pulled the boy into his arms and hugged him for a moment. "I'm sorry Draco. The Dark Lord was angered, and your parents refused to help him find you. Your mother said she was proud of you, do you understand? She was proud of you for defying our Lord. You were safe, and she was happier knowing that than surviving." Tears rolled down the boys alabaster cheeks and dampened the older mans robes. The two were still embracing; Draco crying silently, when Harry returned to the room, with both his bag and Draco's thrown over his shoulder.

Severus and Harry looked at each other and nodded. "Alright, Malfoy, we've got to go. I doubt that Snape's wards will prevent Voldemort from finding us here. At least at my place there's only a few people who will be able to find it." When Draco got to his feet Harry turned to his former professor. "Sir, thank you. Stay in touch, and I'll try and clear things with the Order."

The two boys made their way to the fireplace and Draco flood over first. When Harry stepped out of the fireplace on the other end he was greeted with the sight of Draco stunned and tied in conjured ropes, surrounded by the Weasleys.


	7. Grimmauld Place

A/N: My apologies for how long it's taken to get this chapter out. I've actually re-written the entire thing multiple times. I'm still not completely pleased with it, but it will do for now I think. This chapter is dedicated (in so much as you can actually dedicate a chapter) to wIthOUt A nAmE as Reviewer number 25. As always you all have my thanks, and I hope that I've explained how I perceive the _Fidelius_ charm to be.

Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy.

Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world.

**Chapter Seven: Grimmauld Place**

When Draco stepped out of the fireplace he was surrounded by a sea of red-hair. Within moments he was stunned, and ropes conjured to hold him in place, yet his awareness remained. Frowning Draco closed his eyes, assuming that in the end this had just been a plot to capture him. _But Severus suggested it, _a voice reminded him and inwardly he sneered. He was able to listen to the Weasleys discussing what they were going to do with him, and he quickly became worried. He knew that Harry would be there momentarily; he also knew they wouldn't be expecting that based on what they were saying.

"He killed Harry's uncle, and I'm sure he brought Harry to You-Know-Who. Probably a regular old Death Eater, isn't he?" Ron sneered, stepping towards the blond, blue eyes glittering dangerously. His wand in hand, Ron was about to throw a curse his way, with no one stopping him or holding him back, when the fireplace flared green again and Harry tumbled out. At the sound of the floo being used once more Ron dropped his wand, turning to smile at Harry, the malice disguised in his blue eyes.

"Harry!" Hermione called, launching herself at Harry, distracting him from the scene of his best friend about to curse his... What? His saviour? His friend? Neither of the two were quite sure what they were to the other; after everything Draco had done for him he knew that he wanted to see just what they could be to each other.

"What are you guys doing here?" Harry looked around the room, worry filled those green depths before they finally landed on Draco and was replaced with anger. Draco flinched at the anger he saw boiling in those emerald depths, glad that for once it seemed that anger wasn't intended for him. "And why is Dr- Malfoy tied up?" He frowned, looking at the Weasleys and waiting for an answer.

"Professor Lupin asked us to come here. He wanted to surprise you for your birthday by making the house ready for you. He thought that since you would be legal age you would want to move in here; it is your house now after all. So we've been coming by to get it ready for you." Hermione paused before continuing on in a soft voice. "He also thought that you wouldn't want the reminder of Sirius so everything had to be changed. We finished the mas—your room if you want to go look."

"And how did you get here? I thought with a new secret keeper no one would know where to find the house." Harry frowned, stalking across the room to stand between Draco and the rest of the room, his body acting like a human shield. Draco almost smirked at the surprise and anger he was in Ron's eyes. He could almost _hear_ the other boy's inner thoughts: how Harry was supposed to join them in cursing him, how he couldn't believe that Harry was defending the _ferret_, even though Harry hadn't said anything just yet to defend him.

"Oh honestly, Harry!" Hermione frowned, her foot tapping against the floor as she slipped into lecture mode. "With a new secret keeper it doesn't change anything. You need to cast the full spell over again instead of a simple transfer. If a new secret keeper needed to tell people _again_ how to find a place protected by the _Fidelius_ charm then Dumbledore would have known that Sirius hadn't been the secret keeper for your parents."

Harry nodded, one hand touching the ropes on Draco's body and with a small surge of magic, causing them to drop to the floor. "And what about Malfoy here? Care to explain to me why he's being treated like this?" His eyes darted to Ron, silently acknowledging that he had indeed seen what his best mate had been about to do when he arrived, and that he was not impressed by it in the slightest. With a quiet _ennervate_ the stiffness from Draco's limbs melted away and he stepped back slightly, his eyes on Harry's back, waiting for the inevitable.

Molly Weasley stepped up, one hand wrapping around Harry's upper arm in a bid to move him away from Draco and Harry allowed her to pull him away slightly before refusing to move any further. "He used an unforgivable at your family's home. The ministry is currently searching for him, as is The Order. We were under the impression that you had been kidnapped after the death of your uncle, and were brought to the Dark Lord." She wrapped her arms around Harry, pulling him in for a tight hug, not noticing that Harry stiffened in her arms, wincing in pain. While Severus and Draco had healed him somewhat, he was still injured as neither Severus nor Draco were medi-witches and did not have the experience needed for injuries such as his.

"He… my uncle…" Harry shook his head and looked over his shoulder. Silver eyes met green, and Harry searched his eyes for a moment before nodding slightly. "Then he has my thanks." He ignored the shocked exclamations as he turned to look at the others once more. "When Dumbledore died he had offered Malfoy protection with The Order. I've offered the same—"

"But, Harry—"

"Why would you offer the _ferret_—?"

Harry ignored his friends and continued, "And he has accepted. Now, if you don't mind, it's been a long night for Malfoy and me." He reached behind him for Draco, and caught his hand. Draco's other hand wrapped around his upper arm, helping him to stand steady. "I know you all want an explanation, but I can't do it. Not right now." A haunted look crossed his eyes before he closed them, fighting back tears. "Malfoy knows what happened. Perhaps he'd explain, but for now… I need to get to bed." Swaying, Harry pitched forward, only to be caught in Draco's arms as he slipped once more from consciousness.

-HDHDHDHD-

The Weasleys exploded into movement, Molly fire-calling to Hogwarts for Madam Pompfrey, Ron and Hermione showing Draco up the stairs to the master bed-room where Draco settled Harry onto the bed carefully, Fred and George bringing up some drinks for everyone shortly afterwards. It was a frantic environment, but Bill and Charlie never once took their eyes off of Draco, and as they were the only ones watching him, they alone saw the worry threatening to tear Draco apart. Frowning slightly, Charlie cupped Draco's elbow in his hand and drew him away from the group, into one of the spare bedrooms, Bill following behind. "Explain."

"Did you ever meet his uncle?" Draco looked at the floor while he was speaking, eyes flashing silver fire. "Why the bloody hell did no one notice what was going on?" His head lifted and he pinned the two brothers with his gaze. "You want an explanation?" He sneered. "You want to know why your precious saviour would _thank_ me for killing his uncle? It's because I did what he couldn't do, what he wanted to do. Bloody hell, did no one even notice that Potter was depressed? That he wanted to kill himself? That he felt he bloody well deserved what that fat muggle was doing to him?" His voice had lifted to a shout, and Draco sighed, struggling to restrain his anger.

"What was he doing?" Bill's soft voice filled the room, and Draco looked up, flinching at the sight of the scars that he _knew _were his fault.

"He was," Draco swallowed, unable to look the other two in the eyes, "raping him. And Potter just let it happen. Every bloody night, and then he would drink afterwards. He would drink until he passed out, and I would put him to bed, and I would make certain his family wouldn't come in the room. They didn't feed him, they worked him to the bone, and he was beaten so bad that he had broken bones. He still does actually." Draco sank onto a bed, and buried his head in his hands. "I never really meant to kill him, you know? But he was going to rape him, really rape him, not just his mouth… and Harry was— is—a virgin. And I couldn't let that happen to him. Not bloody Saint Potter." His shoulders slowly stilled their shaking, and Draco looked up at the Weasley brothers, noting their shock and disgust at the picture he had painted for them.

"He never said anything," Charlie whispered, his voice breaking harshly into the silence.

"He didn't want anyone to know. He thought he deserved it, thought—_thinks_ it's the only thing he's good for." Sighing softly, Draco stood, stalking towards the others. "So what are you going to do with me? Cart me off to Azkaban? I'm sure the Dark Lord would be thrilled to get his hands on me after I failed him so spectacularly. And I'm sure Potter doesn't need me anymore, not now that he has all of you around again."

Bill shook his head, "No, Malfoy. He talked to you, and you were there. Maybe you can understand him, help him through this. I don't think we'll tell the others what you told us though. If Harry wants them to know he'll tell them."

Nodding, Draco walked past them, back towards the room that housed Harry. Worry clouded his eyes, and he felt a lance of pain thrust through his chest as he watched Madam Pompfrey move around the small boy. _If he had only acted sooner… Merlin, this was all his fault._

-HDHDHDHD-

When Harry awoke again it was with a low groan; he would really have to stop doing this so much. Sighing, he sat up in bed, only noticing afterwards that his ribs no longer ached dully, and he could breathe freely. He took a moment to look around the room, noting with surprise the soothing atmosphere of the place. It no longer seemed dark, and depressing, and it certainly didn't remind him overly of Sirius. Still, he knew that this was once Sirius' room.

The sheets were soft cotton, and instead of being the Gryffindor red he had half expected to see they were a cool emerald green and Harry choked off a laugh as he thought what Draco would have to say. _Draco!_ He sat straight up in the bed and surged to his feet, stumbling towards the door, only to jump when it opened and Draco himself walked into the room. Harry grabbed Draco's arm and heaved a silent sigh of relief. "How long was it this time?" The words were uttered, while inside Harry knew that what he most wanted to know had nothing to do with how long he had been out for; instead he wanted to know if the others had tried anything without him there to protect Draco. He understood Draco didn't really need his protection, but after what he had sacrificed for him Harry wanted to make sure he didn't deeply regret his actions.

"You were out all day and night. Madam Pompfrey was here though so you should feel much better." Harry nodded at Draco, and smiled marginally; acknowledging that he did, indeed, feel much better.

"So what happened then? I'm going to assume they all know now. I can't imagine Hermione _not_ asking."

Draco shook his head. "Only the two oldest Weasleys know, unless they told the rest. It didn't seem right, and besides, Potter, you spent so bloody well hiding it all you may as well go on hiding it, right?" Draco sneered at him, silver eyes glinting dangerously. "Since they still all believe that I killed your uncle for no other reason that he's a bloody muggle."

Frowning, Harry reached out to touch Draco's shoulder, his hand stopped before doing so and dropped. "They don't need to know. They never needed to know that their bloody _saviour_, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived was fucking raped by his muggle uncle. I should have been able to defend myself Malfoy. And I never could, could I? That will give them so much bloody faith in me." While Harry had been speaking he paced, back and forth in front of the bed before finally throwing himself down onto it. At the sound of the door opening and slamming shut Harry let out a soft sob, tears sliding down his cheeks as he relived the memories over and over again.

-HDHDHDHD-

Remus Lupin paced the Library floor of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, his thoughts lost in what had come over his best friends' son. Why on earth had Harry agreed to allow _Draco Malfoy_ here, of all people? Sighing, he ran his fingers through sandy hair, and sank into a chair, frowning thoughtfully. Molly had told him what Harry had said before collapsing, and yet it still didn't make sense. If he understood correctly he owed Draco not quite a life-debt for his actions, but a debt all the same. It would explain the need to protect Draco, and Harry's willingness to bring him to the Order's headquarters. So what had Draco saved Harry from..?

"Bloody hell, 'Mione! I don't care what Harry says. Malfoy is bad news. We should take him out tonight. Just get rid of him, tie him up and leave him somewhere for You-Know-Who to find. It's not like he can tell him where to find us, and if he's gone we'll be safe." Remus could _hear_ the sneer in Ron's voice and the frown he wore deepened.

"I don't like this any more than you do, Ronald, but we have to trust Harry. He wouldn't have let Malfoy stay here if he didn't have a reason to trust him. Why don't we find out what was happening at his house to cause Harry to let this happen?" Hermione's voice was determined, an edge of the soft happiness she reserved for researching and revising. It was almost enough to cause Remus to smile as the voices faded away, Hermione scolding Ron for wanting to hurt someone, and Ron agreeing to do what she had said.

There were very few debts that could cause a wizard to behave the way Harry had been, and fewer still that Harry could possibly know of. A life-debt was one, and an honour-debt was another. He hadn't heard of one in years, but in ages past it was fairly common, and abused a great deal. When a wizard or witch saved someone's honour they were compelled to do something in return. Of course, it was only a virgin witch or wizard who would ever owe a debt of that magnitude, but Remus had been certain that Harry had been involved with at least one person. Sighing he rubbed his temples. He would need to ask either Draco or Harry himself. But he would try for Draco first. Standing up, Remus went in search of Draco.

-HDHDHDHD-

Draco crossed the hall to the small room that had been offered—if you could call being informed that this was to be his room, and he was not to leave it without a bloody good reason to him, being offered—wishing he had his wand, had anything to take his anger out on. He threw the door open and stalked into the room, his eyes not even taking in the bed with its shabby hangings in gaudy red and gold. He stopped in front of the desk, still muttering under his breath, his fingers idly tracing the carvings from a bored witch or wizard. There were words, cusses actually, and crude drawings. The initials he could only assume belonged to the desk's owner: R.B.

_Bloody Potter, he's damn well letting me take the fall, letting his _friends_ take this out on me. All so he doesn't have to tell them what happened. I should just bloody well tell them all about their bloody saviour._ Growling low in his throat, Draco slammed his fist down on the desk, causing one of the drawers to shake loose, a thump sounding through the room. Snarling, he reached down to push the drawer back into place, not bothering to look carefully. He felt a pinch as he lifted the drawer up some and swore under his breath, yanking his finger into his mouth, tasting the copper of his blood. A low hum thrummed through his body sending ripples of tingling magic down his spine before fading.

_What the bloody hell was that?_ Grimacing slightly Draco bent over to see a smaller drawer become visible underneath the first drawer, and his eyes widened slightly. Blood magic must have been hiding this drawer, but what could be so important that someone would bother with it? He reached out and tentatively pulled open the drawer, allowing a small gasp of shock to cross his parted lips as he did so. Looking over the contents of the drawer he allowed a small smile to cross his lips, lighting his face. There was a letter, and a small black velvet bag with the initials R.A.B. Written in silver. He lifted the bag and spilled a small gold necklace out onto his palm before he unfolded the letter, and read it twice. Laughing softly, he lightly traced the simple 'S', and lifted the locket around his neck, allowing it to slide under his clothes to press against the bare skin of his chest. A slight tremor wracked his thin frame, but Draco left the room without once noticing it, a slight glaze hanging in his silver-grey eyes.

Behind him the letter fluttered to the ground:

_Sirius,_

_If you're reading this I failed. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, not after everything I've done, nor do I deserve your trust. But please, my brother, do this last thing for me... This locket once belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself! And, more importantly, it must be given to Albus Dumbledore. I know, you see. About the Order, about it all. Only you, my brother, the last male Black other than myself, will be able to open this drawer, and so... I have faith in you. Bring this locket to Dumbledore; he'll know what to do with it. Do not wear it, under any circumstances._

_My eternal thanks,_

_Regulus Alastair Black_


	8. Some Secrets to be Told

Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy.

Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world.

**Chapter Eight: Some Secrets to be Told**

If Remus had learnt anything over the years, it was that Harry Potter was a stubborn boy, and if he didn't want to tell one about something, he wouldn't. So instead of going looking for Harry to get the story of what had happened to cause such an about face in his behaviour regarding his school-nemesis, he instead decided to search out Draco Malfoy.

He made his way through number Twelve, Grimmauld Place methodically, searching the rooms on the main level first, and working his way up. As he was searching, he continued to think back on his earlier thought. It was entirely possible that Harry was still a virgin; after all, there wasn't much of an opportunity for him to have been intimate with anyone. Those he may have been intimate with, with the exception of Ginevra Weasley, would most likely have gone straight to the press. But an honour debt? Held by Draco Malfoy? Remus wasn't certain how that could have come about. After all, Harry had been safe at his relatives. There was no way on earth something that horrible could have happened to Harry. Let alone something that would have made Harry grateful for the cold-blooded murder of his uncle.

"Harry, you can tell us what happened. No matter what we'll always care about you." Hermione's voice drifted down the stairs towards him, and Remus paused, listening to the conversation between the three friends.

"Yeah, mate. You don't have to defend that ferret. He should be sent straight off to Azkaban just like his daddy. I mean, he killed your uncle!"

"And like I said, he should be thanked for that."

"But what happened? Surely you can tell us that much."

"Look, I know you guys are my best mates and all, but I just… I can't talk about it. Not right now. Ask Malfoy—"

"Harry, you can't defend the bloody git." Ron sneered, his voice sounding closer now as he stormed out of the room. "He killed your uncle, and the only reason why he hasn't been bloody well beaten, or taken to Azkaban is because of you. So if I were you, I'd watch your pet ferret carefully, or he may just wind up missing." He stormed down the stairs, breezing by Remus without seeming to even notice his presence.

Silence reigned for a few minutes upstairs before Hermione's voice cut through softly. "You know, you can tell us anything."

"I know, 'Mione. It's just… talking about it is too hard. I really am grateful to Malfoy. I know you don't understand it, but trust me. He saved me that night."

"I'll trust you, Harry. But not him. He still needs to prove himself to us. I'll talk to Ron; see if I can't at least talk some sense into him."

Remus opened the door, taking in the scene of the two sitting on the bed together. Harry's eyes were dark; the light almost faded completely within and for the first time Remus began to believe what his instincts had been telling him all along—something horrible had happened to Harry. Hermione patted Harry's hand and stood up. "You know where to find me if you need to talk." She smiled at Remus, and left the room, ignoring Harry's none-too-subtle snort, and muttering of the word 'library'.

"Are you going to yell at me for protecting Malfoy, too, Professor?" Harry's voice was weary, tired of the constant questioning he had faced since he had arrived here with Draco.

"No, pup. I think I'm starting to understand a little bit, but I would prefer it if you'd just tell me." Harry's eyes snapped up to his, shimmering momentarily with the fire that used to encompass everything Harry said and did. The fire quickly faded, leaving behind the empty depths that were a cause of worry to his friends.

"I can't, Remus. I'm sorry, but as I said to the others, I can't talk about it yet. Ask Malfoy. He was there for some of it." His hands clenched the sheets on the bed, twisting them worriedly.

"Do you know where he is, then?" Remus frowned slightly, he'd been almost positive that Draco wouldn't have gone far from Harry, yet he hadn't been anywhere he'd checked.

"Check the potions lab in the basement." A slight smile twisted Harry's lips as he muttered. "It seems even if Snape isn't trusted we'll still have someone here who can help with potions at least." Remus' hearing picked up on the last bit, but he refused to think on it.

Nodding his thanks, Remus left the room, still puzzling over the mystery that was Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

-HDHDHDHD-

The smell of potions brewing filled the air of the small potions lab. He'd stumbled upon it completely by accident it seemed-- he'd turned too fast earlier and his elbow caught the edge of a cabinet, nudging it out of the way. Behind the cabinet had been a door that led to a small potions lab, fully stocked. There had been quite a few potions under a stasis spell, left there by who could only be Severus Snape, before _that night_. When Draco had looked around something in him told him that this is where he had to be, and he'd set out to start work on some minor potions.

It seemed that in the time he'd spent in this house he'd done one of three things; stayed with Harry, or in his room, and last of all, worked in this potions laboratory. It had started out with a yearning for a headache draught, and from there to needing a calming draught. With all the stress, and the unspoken threats sent his way from the Weasel, was it any wonder Draco wanted these potions? And so he'd ended up spending a fair bit of time in the potions lab.

It was a calming draught he'd been working on before he'd seen Harry last, and Draco sighed softly, his fingers lightly touching the locket he wore underneath his robes. They'd fought, and Draco knew that was something he shouldn't be doing; not now, not when his life rested in Harry's talented, slender, sexy hands. '_Bloody hell, did I just call Potter's hands sexy?_' He definitely needed that calming draught now. Not that he hadn't known for a long time that he was attracted to Harry, but he'd always thought he wasn't that way. Then again, he still doubted he stood much of a chance at making Harry his. Sighing, Draco pushed the lever to open the door to the lab and stepped in, inhaling the calming fumes from the potions still brewing.

He was ladling the potion into several phials carefully when he heard a noise behind him. Whirling, Draco dropped the phial he held half-filled and drew his wand in one smooth movement. Remus was standing behind him, and Draco hummed his relief softly. Even now, he was still jumpy. He had no idea how Harry had managed to survive with those muggles as long as he had, especially considering what they had put him through. In the short time that Draco had been there with Harry he'd begun to learn that nothing was as it had seemed about the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

Affixing his customary sneer into place, Draco looked at Remus, his eyes narrowing. He knew that look; the one that said he wanted something from Draco and he intended to get it. "Tell me what happened to Harry." Draco startled slightly, a flash of pain ripping through his chest at the reminder, the request to live through it again.

"You really should ask Potter that yourself. I see no reason to tell _you_ about it." The sneer faded slightly as Remus merely looked at him, one eyebrow lifted as though to ask if that was all that Draco had.

"I have already spoken with him, Draco, and he suggested I ask you. It seems it's too painful for him to speak of it." Frowning, Remus stared off into space for a moment, carefully considering his words before continuing. "I've known Harry since your third year, and if he's sent me to ask you about it, then I think he really does want me to know."

Frowning, Draco thought about it. "I hope you have a strong stomach." He waved off the questioning glance from Remus, and lifted a phial already filled with the gold calming draught and quickly swallowed it down.

"You have to understand, I didn't hurt Potter. It's funny really, when I first followed him I thought he was getting just what he deserved." A bitter laugh escaped Draco as he pulled up a seat, closing his eyes.

"You've met those Muggles, I'm sure, but you've only seen the persona, the façade. They're nothing like that, at least not to Potter. Merlin, he wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything…" Sighing softly, Draco shook his head. "From the first moment they were alone the uncle started hitting Potter. Not gentle taps, either. He was really hitting him, the way you hit someone you hate, the way Potter and I used to hit each other." Again, that bitter laughter filled the air in the small lab.

"The hitting wasn't so bad, you know? With everything we'd been through, I kept thinking he deserved it. But then I saw how it was to live there. The fear was nothing… the begging look, Professor, that look that he was begging them for just _food_ made me sick." His throat felt tight, and Draco swallowed, taking another sip of calming draught to help him finish. "The worst though… the worst was the nights.

"Have you ever been raped, Professor? Have you ever watched someone be raped in front of you _every bloody night_ and been able to stop yourself from doing something to help? After his uncle left he'd get drunk. Perfect Potter, would get drunk, and talk to a dead man, confessing everything-- every bloody detail of his life.

"And do you know why Harry thanks me for killing the man?" Draco opened his silver eyes to look into Remus' tear-filled amber ones. "Because _his sodding uncle_ was about to take his virginity. The one thing Harry swore he was saving for someone he loved, because he feels he isn't worth anyone anymore. He feels like all he's good for is killing off the Dark Lord, and _sex_."

Distantly, Draco was aware of the fact that the man in front of him had broken down, but he continued in a soft voice, revealing to himself if no one else just what was going on within his own head. "He shouldn't think like that, though-- because he _is_ worthy of love. And I wish…" '_I wish he was mine…'_ "I wish he would stop thanking me. I just stood by and watched for too long…"

Tears slid down Hermione's cheeks as she stepped away from the potions lab and headed towards the relative quiet of the library. 'Oh. Harry,' she thought to herself, wishing that he had told them sooner, that they could have helped him. But how? She knew that Harry had had no choice but to go back, the blood protection he needed was there. She wiped at her cheeks, and shook her head. She understood now why Harry was so adamant about not blaming Draco for what he had done. In light of that, she needed to convince Ron to let things remain as they were.

-HDHDHDHD-

The knock on Harry's bedroom door was soft, and the door opened immediately, allowing the slim form of Draco to slip into the room, a bottle of firewhiskey in hand. Harry lifted an eyebrow and watched as Draco set up the shot glasses on the bedside table and sat down next to him. "So is there a point to this then?" Harry asked, pouring out the shots carefully, handing one glass to Draco

Draco shrugged, and lifted his glass in a silent toast and tilted his head back, allowing the alcohol to slide down his throat, lighting its fire behind it. "Why won't you tell them? And don't give me that 'it's too hard' bullshit, that you've been spouting off to everyone else. If it was too bloody hard for them to know then you wouldn't be telling them to ask me."

Harry sighed, looking into his own glass before tossing the whiskey back. "It's the face they'll make. Hermione's will be full of pity; Ron's disgust; Remus will be sickened." He poured out the shots again, drinking his down and quickly filling the glass again before lifting emerald eyes to look into Draco's silver ones. "Normally they look like I can save them. Same with you and Snape, y'know. I'm the bloody saviour, yeah? If they knew what my uncle was doing, they wouldn't look at me like that anymore. They need their hope. Besides, they aren't going to talk to you. I know Ron too well for that."

Draco laughed, the sound falling just a tad short of being mocking. "Your pet werewolf already did ask me about it. So did the older Weasley brothers – very good looking, I might add. Especially the second one." Draco smirked, drinking the shot quickly and holding it out for a refill. "I told them. Not everything, but enough. Surprisingly, I didn't tell them that you fancy blokes, or the other nonsense you told my cousin. Of course we'll have to discuss just what you owe me for my silence." He sneered, finishing off the shot and holding his glass out for another. Already the world was beginning to seem fuzzy, colours blurring together, and beside him he could _smell_ Harry, and he smelt amazing.

"What I owe you for your silence? You bloody Slytherin. As though letting you stay in _my_ house where Voldemort can't get you isn't enough…" Harry scowled, before lifting his chin. "Well, I could always tell the other's about you kissing me, or how about how you would tuck me into bed at night." Harry smirked, still looking at Draco. He'd been guessing about the tucking in part, but judging by the way Draco had flushed he decided he must have been spot-on. Although, now that he thought back on it, the kiss and tucking in had been rather… nice. Sighing softly, Harry turned in the bed to rest his back against the headboard, frowning slightly at Draco. "Besides, they probably won't believe you, even if you did tell them."

Draco lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug. "Maybe. Maybe not. But we won't know unless we try. Anyway, they wouldn't believe _you_ if you told them about me kissing you, let alone tucking you in. Therefore, I still think you owe me for me silence." He paused, thinking over what he wanted in return. Or rather, he knew what he wanted… what he'd wanted for years, and only recently decided he could have. Harry. He was leaning forward slightly when there was a loud thump from downstairs.

Harry frowned, scrambling out of bed and heading towards the door with a small limp. "Someone just floo'd in."

-HDHDHDHD-

Harry and Draco made there way down the stairs as fast as they could. After Harry almost tripped once he gave in and had one arm slung around Draco's shoulders, limping along as quickly as he could. He still couldn't stomach holding his wand, not after what his uncle had done, so instead he was on Draco's right side so he could hold his wand. It was funny, almost. Harry smiled slightly to himself, '_he's left-handed, and I'm right-handed. If we're attacked, we could easily duel together, instead of against each other.'_

When they finally managed to make it to the bottom of the stairs, thankfully without either of them falling and getting hurt, they could hear the sound of a group of people talking from the living room. Frowning, Harry nudged open the door. It was chaos in the room, but his eyes soon discerned that inside was a goodly amount of members from the Order of the Phoenix. What he couldn't understand was why they were all there.

Pushing the door open further he stepped inside the room, and looked around. In the corner by the fireplace he could see Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody speaking with an angry Ron, who was still waving his arms around, and Harry was certain he could hear the words 'murdering git' spoken quite a few times. Sighing softly, he was about to turn, to tell Draco to go back upstairs, to go anywhere but here when silence filled the air, and Harry twisted back to see that Draco had walked in, wand still in hand. '_Bloody hell._'

The silence was thick before Professor McGonagall swept forward to look at Draco carefully, and Ron's voice rang out. "I told you the murdering git was here! And for some reason Harry thinks this was a right good idea!"

With the silence broken it sounded like everyone was talking over one another, and Tonks frowned slightly before extending a hand towards Draco. "'wotcher cuz!" Draco frowned slightly, and looked at Harry before reaching forward to shake her hand lightly, mentally going over the family tree in his head.

"Nymphadora, a pleasure, I'm sure." He smiled charmingly, impeccable manners taking over, and bowed over her hand, dropping a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

"And that was your one free shot at calling me by that name. Call me Tonks." She grinned, ignoring the looks that were shot her way as her hair morphed to green to show her support.

"Alright, boy," Moody scowled at Harry as he stomped forward. "You mind telling me just why we shouldn't be carting this here brat off to Azkaban for murdering a Muggle with the Killing Curse?"


	9. Showdown

Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy.

Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world.

**Chapter Nine: Showdown**

"_Alright, boy," Moody scowled at Harry as he stomped forward. "You mind telling me just why we shouldn't be carting this here brat off to Azkaban for murdering a Muggle with the Killing Curse?"_

Moody's scowl deepened, his magic eye whirling crazily about in his head, but always landing on Draco. "Or how about for letting the bloody Death Eaters into Hogwarts not so long ago? Surely even _you_ recall that, boy." His wand was in his hand, aimed towards Draco, and Harry slid between the two, ignoring the twinge of pain the movement caused.

Harry looked over Moody's shoulder, his eyes flashing dangerously as they locked on his supposed best mate's. He had promised that nothing would happen to Draco, he had sworn that he had a reason for what he had done, and yet Ron hadn't believed him. Even after last year, he couldn't just bloody well believe that Harry knew what he was doing. Turning his emerald glare to the retired Auror, Harry swallowed—he couldn't do this. In the end, it was the gentle, almost non-existent, touch of Draco's hand on his wrist that gave him the strength to go on. Draco accepted the very real possibility that Harry wouldn't be able to say anything, and while not happy, he would accept that and move on. Even if that meant he would wind up in Azkaban. After all, he had mucked up in the past.

Harry nodded slightly in response to Draco, and spoke. "Draco Malfoy came home with me this summer. It was without my consent, and without my knowledge, but he did come home with me. Every year I've gone back to them alone, and I've been beaten, and starved." Mrs. Weasley gasped in horror, and Remus' eyes flashed in anger. Harry swallowed, refusing to tell everyone the full truth, but willing to admit to this small portion in order to save Draco. "And yeah, he just watched for the most part. That night Draco Malfoy stepped in and saved me. He knew I couldn't do anything to help myself, I couldn't use magic, and before they could" '_rape_ _me_' "do the unthinkable, Malfoy cast the Killing Curse. He saved my" '_virginity_' "life." It wasn't everything, not even close, but surely it would be enough.

And indeed, it appeared to be enough for most of the people in the living room. He could see from the looks that Bill and Charlie exchanged, and from the look Remus sent him that they knew there was more, but that they too accepted he couldn't say all of what had happened. Even Hermione seemed to be wearing that knowing look, and Harry frowned slightly—he'd been certain that Draco hadn't told her, yet it seemed she knew as well. However, for Ron and Moody it wasn't enough. Ron's scowl deepened as he muttered under his breath about Imperius curses. Moody was practically snarling as he tried to shove Harry out of the way. The push on his freshly healed chest sent Harry stumbling back into Draco's arms, memories of past abuse flitting through his mind as he choked back a sob.

The room watched in silence as Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, the alcohol in his system convincing him that this was all right for him to do, that Harry was _his_ to protect, and to comfort. Harry turned and buried his face against Draco's shoulder, shaking as hands gently rubbed his back, and the soothing sound of Draco's voice whispering in his ear. "It's okay, H—Potter. He's gone now. You're safe." He must have repeated that a dozen times before Harry lifted his head, wiping at the tears on his cheeks. "See?" He gently turned Harry around enough so he could see the room, watching the two of them, puzzled expressions on their faces. "It's all right…"

"Well, I don't care what his reasons are; it's time he was taken in to Azkaban. Join his Death Eater father there, perhaps. It's only too bad we can't give him to the Dementors right now." Moody was sneering now, his one good eye fixed on Draco as he stomped forward. Draco blanched slightly at the thought of his father, and Harry was confused. He had _seen_ Voldemort torture and kill the Malfoys. There was no way Lucius Malfoy was still in Azkaban. But Moody was still stomping towards Draco, and Harry pushed away that thought in order to do what he knew was right, what he felt compelled to do.

"No." Harry pushed out of Draco's arms and stepped forward, again putting himself between Moody and Draco. "He's not going anywhere. But you are. Get out of my house. All of you." His eyes lifted to look directly at Ron, "especially you." When it looked like Moody was going to refuse, Harry's eyes darted back to him, and flashed. The room started shaking, and Moody flinched before stepping back, and turning.

Grabbing a handful of floo powder, Moody stepped into the fireplace, but before speaking his destination he lifted his eyes to Harry's and snarled. "You can't protect him forever, boy. You know he deserves to rot in Azkaban." With that, he tossed the powder down and was gone in a flash of green light.

"How could you, Ron?" Harry stepped forward, barely catching his weight as he stalked towards his best mate. "You couldn't take my word for it? Couldn't believe me when I said Draco did it for _me_?" He didn't even notice that he called Draco by his first name, too angry to care. "Do you know why I didn't want to say anything?" By now, he was standing directly in front of Ron, and surprisingly no one had stepped forward yet to break them apart. Snarling, he fisted his hands in the front of Ron's jumper and pulled him closer.

"Every bloody time I talk about it I have to re-live it. I have to re-live every single fucking abuse: every hit, every punch, and every broken bone. So you tell me, Ron, was it worth it?" He pushed, letting go of Ron's jumper and watching as he stumbled backwards before turning to leave the room. "I can't deal with you right now." Already he was shaking from the exertion, and from the memories.

"Harry, wait. I didn't mean… well… how was I to know what happened at your relatives?" Ron was right behind Harry and almost walked into him as Harry whirled around.

"How were you to know? Bloody hell, mate! Do you think I'm this thin because I _choose_ not to eat? Do you think I just _fall down the bloody stairs_? Or maybe I walk into doors, is that it? No, wait, it's because I deserve it. That was _his_ favourite explanation. 'The boy deserves it for being so _freakish_' is that it?" By now, tears were sliding down the cheeks of Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hermione. Even Remus and Ron looked like they were about to cry. And the shaking that had been so small was now in earnest, books sliding out of bookshelves to pitch to the floor, a vase of flowers shattering.

"Harry," strong, slim hands held his shoulders and Harry let out a soft sigh as he closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. The shaking in the room stilled, and Harry turned to survey the damage. He looked up into silver eyes, and blinked slowly at Draco, only now noticing that it was Draco who had held him just then, Draco who had calmed him down.

"They're giving me those looks, aren't they?" Draco smirked slightly.

"Actually, Potter, I think you were wrong about the looks you'd be getting. I think the hero worship increased." He gave a gentle twist to Harry's shoulders, forcing him to look at the others.

"I'm sorry. It's just… I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"Of course not, dear." Mrs. Weasley patted Harry on the shoulder and looked at Draco thankfully. "Now you two boys go on up to bed. It's past dinnertime already, and you both need your rest. I'll be speaking with Ronald here." She frowned at her youngest son before nodding at the other two. "Go on now. And if you need anything you just let me know, okay dears?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry smiled and hugged her before turning towards the stairs once more, a look of trepidation in his face. He _really_ hated those stairs. "I really… I didn't mean…" He paused, rubbing at his forehead wearily. "Please stay."

"We will, dear. Off to bed now."

Draco managed to make to half way up the stairs behind Harry when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. A turn of his head brought him eye-to-eye with Hermione, and the look in her face caused his blood to run cold. "I know, Malfoy. What I don't know is why you would have bothered to save him. You can't stand Harry; you hate him. So why did you suddenly decide to help him?"

"To be honest, Granger," he drawled, "I'm not sure. Perhaps I thought no one deserved to live like that. Or maybe I've been secretly in love with the Boy Who Lived." Smirking at the look on her face, he turned to continue up the stairs. "I don't need to tell you why I chose to save him. It's enough that I did. And if the Dark Lord didn't already want me dead for refusing to kill Dumbledore, then he would now." He lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug and continued up the stairs. '_Bloody alcohol. I'm not in love with Ha—Potter. I'm not! I simply want to claim him as mine… and that's not love!_'

-HDHDHDHD-

He wasn't an idiot, nor was he deaf. He'd heard what Draco had said, and he couldn't help the way his chest had clenched and his stomach twisted when Draco had joked about being in love with him. Groaning, Harry sunk onto his bed and tossed his glasses to the bedside table before he grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey, taking a large pull in an attempt to stop his brain from working. '_Is it so wrong of me to wish that maybe he did have feelings for me…?_' Unfortunately, the alcohol did nothing to help him to stop thinking, and in fact just caused him to rethink the last time he'd been drinking with Draco.

'_He kissed me_,' Harry rubbed the heel of his palms against his eyes, sinking back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling. '_That night, he kissed me._' Sighing, he watched the way the light filtered through the window, wishing that he could actually sleep. Of course that wasn't the first time he'd been drinking with Draco around. Groaning, Harry rolled over to his side, back facing the door. He'd been drinking for a week, every night talking aloud. He hadn't thought much of it, merely speaking as though Sirius had been there. Sirius, who was the closest thing to a father he had, even if he was more like a big brother than anything else. Sirius would have understood what he was feeling right now or at least he hoped as much.

He'd talked about what had happened at his uncle's, or at least about most of it. Looking back, he couldn't remember telling even his imaginary Sirius about how his uncle had only recently begun selling him like that. When talking about that grew to be too painful, he talked about Voldemort, about how he was scared, about the Prophecy. And after enough to drink he started to talk about the blokes he liked. Harry sat up suddenly, fumbling for his glasses, his cheeks flushed with colour.

The blokes he liked. Which included one Draco Malfoy, whom he was certain he had rhapsodized about for far longer than any other bloke. After all, Draco was gorgeous, intelligent, elegant, sensual, and just screamed that he would be amazing in bed. Bloody hell, he'd told Draco all about his crush on him. Oh, Merlin, was it any wonder Draco had kissed him. He knew how easy it would be for Harry to hop into bed with him, how easy it would be to convince Harry that he would be safe. The irony of it was that he probably would be safe with Draco, other than the fact that his heart would probably wind up broken.

He was still sitting up in bed when the door opened to allow a flustered and visibly upset Draco to enter, still berating himself under his breath. Harry was almost certain he heard the world 'love' multiple times, but was unable to be certain so he allowed it to pass and simply held out the bottle. "Sod the glasses," he muttered, waiting for Draco to finish his drink and pass it back.

The two sat in amiable silence, broken at times by one or the other. As time passed, and they became more drunk, Draco leaned back beside Harry and sighed. "Y'know," he slurred, "everyone always thought I had it easy. That father loved me." He sneered, rolling a bit so he was on his side facing Harry, one hand absently tracing patterns on the boy's stomach. "_Crucio_ hurts, doesn't it? Same with beatings like the one's your uncle used to… well, you know. Never did _that_ to me though, so I s'pose I'm supposed to be grateful." Harry's eyes had widened slightly, but he still lay back against the headboard, not saying anything for fear that Draco would stop talking.

"After the Dark Lord returned it got worse. Father said he was doing it because he loved me, but I can't see why he felt the need to twist and warp things the way that he did." Draco paused to take a pull from the bottle before continuing. "For my fifteenth birthday he hired a muggle hooker." Sneering, he looked into Harry's eyes. "Just because he was a Death Eater didn't mean he couldn't see a certain use for the muggles. So he hired one to make me 'learn the fine line between pain and pleasure', he said. He claimed that learning to find pleasure in pain was a useful talent for a Death Eater. I never understood that until I saw a meeting myself."

Draco's hand stilled, clutching at the jumper Harry wore. "I still remember the look in his eyes when he would torture someone. Bloody hell, Potter, the Dark Lord was getting off on it. He was enjoying it!" Harry's hand lifted to card through Draco's hair gently, soothingly.

"I know, Malfoy. It's sickening. Like, there couldn't be any way he could be worse… and then you see that look, the one that tells you that he's enjoying hurting you… and then you know that it's not going to stop. It will never stop." Harry laughed bitterly. "I know that look, Malfoy. My uncle and cousin wore it for years, and then the times I met Voldemort he wore it." Shrugging, Harry continued to card his fingers through Draco's silky hair, sighing softly.

"It used to puzzle me that you didn't."

Draco looked up at Harry, confusion flickering over his expression for a moment before concealed behind the carefully structured façade of cool indifference. "I don't know what you mean, Potter." He rolled away from Harry, eyes locked on the ceiling.

"Just that you didn't look like you enjoyed hurting me, Malfoy." Harry grinned, reaching for the bottle of fire whiskey and finishing it off. "We should get some sleep." Draco moved to get out of bed, but Harry reached out and caught his wrist. "Please, just... stay?" His voice came out soft, needy, almost begging for Draco to stay, and Harry dropped his eyes to stare at the duvet, deep forest green cotton that matched the cotton sheets so well.

Draco's eyebrows rose as he sank back onto the bed. "You want me to stay, Potter?" He laughed softly, the sound sending chills up and down Harry's spine, delighting his imagination with it's wicked promise. "You have to let me get undressed then. And probably borrow something for bed; I'm afraid I didn't really have time to pack my own clothing." His nose wrinkled in disgust, he needed _out_ of the clothing he was wearing currently.

Harry flushed, still looking down at the duvet. He'd noticed that Draco had been wearing the same outfit for the past few days, but it had never occurred to him that Draco hadn't anything else to change into. They'd have to take a trip to Diagon Alley, possibly muggle London as well. Since Harry did not intend to go back to his relatives, he would need a new wardrobe as well, anyway.

"We didn't really pack anything much for me either, Malfoy. I've just been sleeping in my pants." The flushed deepened as he waited for a response.

"Well, well, Potter. Trying to seduce me?" Draco wriggled out of bed, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, allowing it to drop to the floor with a careless elegance. He waited for Harry to look up before undoing his trousers, smirking slightly at the glazed over expression on Harry's face.

"Nothing like that, Dr—Malfoy." Harry swallowed, ignoring the fire that was lighting in his lower body, and turning to pull off his jumper, and slide his own trousers down before sliding into the bed. He had to struggle to keep his eyes off Malfoy, and resolutely snapped them closed, one hand fumbling his glasses off and to the bedside table.

A moment later he could feel the bed dip beneath Draco's weight, and sighed softly, his eyes drifting closed. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Malfoy." A small smile curved Harry's lips as he allowed himself to drift off. Before he was completely asleep it occurred to him that the warm weight resting on his side was Draco's arm, but somehow it only served to make him smile more. Humming happily, he relaxed back against Draco and allowed himself to sleep; for once without being woken by nightmares.


End file.
